


Beyond Duetto

by Tutti_writes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Accidental Boners, Additional Tags to Be Added, Canon Universe, Emotional, European Figure Skating Championships, First Time, Four Continents Figure Skating Championships, Ice Skating, Inspired by Yuri!!! on Ice, M/M, Multi, Okay maybe a bit but it is worth it, Other, Post canon, Slice of Life, Some angst, Victor Nikiforov backstory, Virgin Katsuki Yuuri, Yoi - Freeform, canon compliant as of season 1, cockblock Yurio and the sundance cat, gay skate babies, historical homophobia but not present day homophibia, lots of fluff, makkachin is immortal, mostly feels, mostly nonhomophobic universe, my motto is it will get there eventually, not explicit in terminology but graphic smut, not for long, slow burning plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2020-11-02 03:27:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 160,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20606714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tutti_writes/pseuds/Tutti_writes
Summary: A Yuri on Ice story starting off from the medal ceremony in episode 12.part 1 completeCurrently discontinued





	1. Chapter 1

Beyond Duetto

Part 1: On “L Words”

Chapter 1

Yuri held onto the ends of the lanyard with delicacy, his cheeks hued pink as he watched the silver glitter in the light. He was happy to have medaled at all, but the looming prospect of his coach’s disappointment kept his excitement subdued.

“It’s not a gold medal, but…” Yuri said, mesmerized in the moment by the shine and less focused on the person in front of him. The blue and purple jewels of his costumes coat shimmered alongside his medal, reflecting the light from the ice in a dazzling display. His blade guards thunked on the ground quietly as he started to inch forward. Victor’s smile reached both sides of his ears as the childlike happiness turned into a mischievous grin.

“I don’t feel like kissing it unless it’s gold.” Victor stated, chuckling a breathy laugh at the last word like he entirely meant it as a joke and not the deep burn as intended. Yuri’s mahogany brown irises shrunk to almost showing only the whites of his eyes as he twitched with a grieved breath in shock at hearing those words from his coach.

“Man, I really wanted to kiss Yuri’s gold medal.” Victor’s voice turned to a playful whine as he inched closer, a smirk beginning to peak out of the sides of his mouth. “I’m such a failure as a coach.” He said, picking up his pace as he walked into Yuri’s space, backing his student up until they were leaned over the rink wall. Victor towered over Yuri’s more petite frame until it looked as if he was flat against the ice even though he was just an upside-down L-shape.

Victor just grinned in amusement at the startled affect his words were having, bringing his ringed hand over his own jaw in spoken thought, “Yuri, do you have any suggestions?” he asked innocently enough, the ice’s luster making the gold band on Victor’s finger blinding, then his voice deepened to a sultry lull, “Something that would excite me?”

The sparkle in Victor’s blue eyes gave off a devious look, momentarily paralyzing Yuri’s thoughts while being entranced by them. _What would excite Victor? _Yuri wondered; flashes of ideas akin to their precarious position made up the bulk of his thoughts in that moment. Not that _that _would be what excited Victor. Or maybe it would be? Yuri was never entirely sure. Yuri’s back was almost flush with the white painted board of the rink, and he clenched his eyes shut trying to think of literally anything else in the moment _besides that._

_That_ just prompted Victor to inquire further, “What did you think just now?” his voice dripping deep with curiosity as he stared down as the flustered man underneath him began stuttering.

The ends of Yuri’s black tresses began to mess up as he shook for an answer, “Oh, um…Well…” Nothing seemed to articulate, the hints of red in the depths of his brown eyes came out as his brows furrowed, cheeks gaining the telltale hint of rouge over his usual pallor. There was only one thing Yuri could actually say. One thing he wanted to tell Victor above all else. He mustered all of his strength and pushed Victor away, causing his coach to land with a thud on the ground a few paces from where they were. The silver medal flung from his hand and toppled to the ground next to them, forgotten in the moment.

Yuri straddled over Victor’s right leg, embracing lightly over Victor’s taupe coat clad shoulders. “Please stay with me in competitive figure skating for one more year!” he declared, a look of emphatic determination on his face as he moved to clutch Victor’s shoulders, “This time, I’ll win gold for sure!”

Victor’s eyes widened with realization until they seemed to dissipate and recolor with swirled pools of crystal blue tears. He drew his mouth into a heart shaped bow of elation, “Great! But keep going!” he mused.

“What?” Yuri questioned, his face fading from determined to bewildered as he sat a little more upright on Victor’s leg, his hand unclamping from their previous position.

“Even I’m worried about making a full comeback if I’m also staying on as your coach.” Victor exclaimed, leaning over to reach for Yuri’s silver medal. He gently laid it over Yuri’s neck, giving a look of pride that Yuri had been seeking ever since he stepped off the podium. Victor’s eyes glimmered with a hope that he had not worn since the night of the short program as he spoke, “In exchange, I’ll need you to become a five-time world champion, at least.”

Yuri gripped tightly around his silver medal, the tears in his eyes already flowing before he had a chance for Victor’s words to catch up to him. Victor wanted to stay. He wanted to compete and to stay, and that was all that mattered. Anything else in the next five years could be accomplished as long as Victor stayed close to him. Yuri realized this more than ever as he looked back into the bright glowing blue eyes and simply snuffled, “Okay,” before falling back into an embrace.

Minutes, hours, days, weeks; no amount of time could be determined for length of time Victor and Your stayed holding onto one another, least of all by them. Somewhere between the passing time Yuri had shifted to perching himself over both of Victor’s legs, but nothing else changed or mattered. They held quietly and with intent, the only sound shuffling between them being the occasional exasperated breath when the tears became too much. So many things were settled in that moment between coach and student, but the rest of the season’s confusions lay to tackle a short distance away. But for now, they were content with this victory.

.

.

.

.

The sound of the Zamboni making its final trek along the rink snapped Victor from the torpor of the embrace. Every possibility of what he dreamed up, standing on the pier in the brief moment before Yurio’s shoe rammed itself into his lower back, once again illuminated in his mind as actually happening.

_He’s holding onto me like he did before the short program. Was he really going to leave after everything we said? I know we didn’t exactly exchange vows or promises but still…_

_ I meant what I said when I called them engagement rings. _

“Yuri…” Victor started, catching the mentioned off guard as Yuri twitched and pulled up to meet his brown eyes to blue. He could feel Victor’s breath mixing with his own, and momentarily felt a tingling on the outskirts of his lips as he his head, wondering.

“Huh?”

“We should really get going. They’re going to kick us out, medalist or not.” Victor smiled in the statement; his voice slightly raw but still maintaining the soft song in it that Yuri had come accustomed to. It took days in the beginning to just get used to hearing Victor’s voice and not tremble. He could still remember the first time he thought he heard his name…

_“Yuri.” The soft depth of his idol’s voice catching Yuri off guard, causing him to perk up in curiosity. _

_Victor spoke again as he walked by, but not to him. “About your free performance, the step sequence could use some more—"_

_The Russian Punk who just got through screaming at Yuri only a few hours ago threw his head back in exasperation, “I won, so who cares? Quit nagging, Viktor._

_ Yuri sighed as the realization sunk in. “Oh, the Yuri on the Russian team…”_

“Yuri? Do you hear me? I’m talking to you.”

Yuri shook his head as Victor’s waving hand caught his line of sight, bringing him back from the recesses of his memories with a start. “Oh, gomen. S-sorry.” He apologized flatly, still recovering from the transition from past to present, and the lingering sadness of the Sochi Grand Prix that accompanied. “You were saying we needed to get going?”

Yuri suddenly realized that he was staring at Victor’s brown suede dress shoes as Victor had gotten up a few second’s prior and was leaning down with a hand in reach to pull the disoriented and still blue costumed man up from the floor. Yuri accepted the ringed hand with his own, his knees wobbling as he finally came to his full height after bending on his knees for that long.

Victor held onto Yuri’s ringed hand a little longer, switching his gaze between the ring and the eyes of the ring wearer. _Could he still not know? After this entire year, does he still not see? _Victor thought, transfixed for a moment on the light gleaming off of the person he admired lips, but resolved to only bring the ring up to his mouth before placing his lip on the gold band. When he looked back down, he found Yuri’s doe eyes shining in their searching manner instead of the somber wistfulness of a few moments prior. Victor just didn’t know _what _he was searching for.

“You need to go change. Then, we can decide what we do next.” Victor said with a wink, somehow managing to smile with hints of both innocence and mischief. “Okay, Yuri?”

_He can show both eros and agape at the same exact moment, Yuri thought. _

“Did you have something planned?” Yuri wondered, cocking a brow.

Victor laughed amused and turned Yuri around, leaning against the back him until the tip of his lip brushed Yuri’s ear sending a shiver down the medalist’s spine, “That all depends on how long you take.” He purred, silver bangs falling against Yuri’s neck as he spoke.

Yuri felt the prickle as every goose bump possible raised on his body, his cheeks flushed. Victor could feel the warmth of Yuri’s glow and brought his arms encased in the coat up and nudged the skater forward, grabbing the medal from over Yuri’s head to hold while he changed. A few awkward clunks sounded on the ground before Yuri regained a sense of himself and marched off to the locker rooms to get changed.

Luckily, a mostly empty arena meant an empty locker room, and Yuri’s relieving exhales echoed in the chamber. He found his locker easy enough and grabbed what he needed for a quick shower. Not knowing what his Russian with the mind of a genius and the attention span of a fish had in store left him not wanting the night mired with the stacked sweat of fear and competition.

As the steam lifted from the floor of the show, creating a curtain up to his torso as he the suds frothed over his body, Yuri thought over the previous eight months. What started as the tunnel to an impending retirement after defeat became the precipice for the one thing he always wanted.

_I got to skate on the same ice as Victor someday. _

Yuri still hadn’t done that, he supposed, at least not the way he meant it back then. This time he was fighting with Victor, not against him. So much happened in the midst of that fight.

_Was I fighting with… or falling for? _Yuri sighed heavily as he lathered the conditioner over his black hair before the last rinse. All of the moments played like a movie reel encased in a steam frame as the water cascaded down his head and dribbled down his now muscled back. The first time he saw Victor in the onsen; naked and pledging to make him win the grand prix final. The time Victor got down on his knees and held his chin while staring half lidded into his eyes, running his hand over Yuri’s, speaking some nonsense about building trust in a relationship over just coaching…at least, until Yuri crawled backwards like a shot out of the room.

_Minako always said he was nice to his fans. That’s what I was. Then he became my coach….and then…the hugs, the times he kissed my hands, the time he kissed ME. _

Yuri’s cheeks flushed deeply to think of that moment immortalized on video in front of thousands of people. His first kiss happened in an instant… and then nothing. Victor hadn’t brought the shiver of kiss to his lips since that one time, and anyone could write it off as a passionate moment of extreme excitement. After all, Yuri had just done Victor’s signature move.

The fogged mirrors in the locker room faded back to their reflective clarity, and Yuri caught a glimpse of himself as he tightened the laces of his sneakers. He wore the same navy blue with a cobalt stripe on either end and a form fitting blue shirt as normal, but the brilliance of gold caught his eye on his right hand and he brought it up to admire it once more. He thought about the moment he decided to get the “good luck charms” only for Victor to call them engagement rings in front of everyone. Would Victor use the rings as a catalyst to inspire competitiveness in his peers? Or was it what he thought they meant? Is it what the rings meant, and Victor was reading him beyond even his own self once again?

_ I’ve been so focused on winning the Grand Prix Final I don’t know what’s real anymore. _

_._

_._

_._

In an almost synchronous moment, waiting on a steel bench outside the locker room, Victor also held his hand up to once again to ponder the meaning of the rings. The list of things that made five time champion Victor Nikiforov’s heart skip an anxious beat could be listed off on either hands fingers, most of them lingering in a forgotten crystal vase shattered on the ground of a nightmare, but the ring was the most recent and only present cause of his anxiety. His brows scrunched their grey silver hairs as he tilted his head thinking over all of the events that happened and would come. Being a coach and a competitor, figuring out just where and how that would work seemed like a backseat worry.

_If I can just get him there and show him on the ice what my love is… then maybe I can meet him where he is at. Yuri doesn’t always say things outright, but he shows them on the ice. He shows his love on the ice, so that’s where I’ll need to show mine…._

The door finally clicked open and Yuri looked almost the same as the moment Victor had asked for a commemorative photo in Sochi a year prior. His hair was slightly longer and pushed a little over the edges of his blue rimmed glasses. Victor noted all the physical differences and he walked over and clasped his arms over his shoulders, “You look almost the same.” He said, winking.

“Same as what?” Yuri wondered, beginning to pull at his clothes. He heard Victor rummaging through his pockets, not noticing the Russian flip his silver strands as he elongated his arm with his phone in hand.

“Yuri! Look!” Victor mused as Yuri glanced up with an unknowing gape just in time to see the camera click with _woosh. _Victor brought his arm down immediately to see with the giddiness of a child, “What does it look like? Oh, that’s good!....”

“Victor…” Yuri began to whine, not even really looking at the photo.

“Amazing! I’m going to post it! #gpf! #myyurimedals!”

“Victor!”

“Man, I wish I was in my jogsuit, that really would have looked like Sochi, right, Yuri?” Victor said happily pointing to Yuri’s chagrin before going back to his phone. 

“What are you talking about, Victor?!?!” Yuri barked.

Victor looked back up at the perplexed man to his side, “It’s like at Sochi when I offered a commerative photo…” he lifted his finger over his chin in thought.

“Victooor, do you really have to bring that up now?” Yuri asked letting off a reluctant sigh to the thought of his lowest moment

“You look almost exactly the same, you know. Except one thing…” Victor stated as he leaned in closer until his nose touched tips with Yuri’s.

“Wh-What’s that?” The temperature of Yuri’s cheeks were easily twenty degrees above the rest of his body as the red flush once again resumed in streaks.

Victor huffed a breath laugh and smiled, pulling away, “You’re happy.” He stated, walking away as his long coat swung with the sway of his hips, “C’mon, we still have time to practice, Yuri!”

Yuri rattled his head back and forth in and effort to gain composure, “Huh? Practice?” he inquired pulling up the handle of his suitcase as he quickened his pace to catch up with the always fast stepped Russian. He fumbled in the pocket of his navy coat to retrieve his phone and clicked on to SMS to see Victor’s post for himself. 

_Did he really hashtag “myyuri”?!?!_

_._

_._

_._

_._

The Skating Club Barcelona looked like a collision between modern architecture, a regular rink, and a disco. A shimmering ball hung from a sleekly designed in blocks ceiling in the center of the rink and speckled the ice with hints of circulating lights. The empty bleachers alongside produced an atmosphere of ghostly loneliness that Yuri had become accustomed to having around for most of his life. At least, until he spotted the specks of the disco ball bouncing silver on silver over an excited and hopping Russian. Victor had _somehow _finagled a private after-hours session for he and Yuri to work on the exhibition performance tomorrow.

“How’d you manage this, Victor?” Yuri had asked as they arrived from the taxi.

“You know, just some _persuasion_.” Victor purred, lips pursed over the last word with half lidded bedroom eyes looking into Yuri’s widened pupils. Yuri didn’t pry anymore, he didn’t want to know how much persuasion or flirting it took to get the rink. A pit formed in the bottom of his stomach and an unknown ache formed there, making the thought uncomfortable enough to need a distraction.

“Soooo…. What exactly are we doing here?” Yuri asked, lacing his skates up as he watched Victor standing on with his arms perched on the ledge of the rink, looking at his phone, unchanged from his formal coaching attire. “We have tomorrow to practice before the exhibition. I know Aria well enough by now to not need….”

“I changed it.” He interrupted, not even looking up from where he was thumbing on his phone’s keyboard.

“HAH?!?” Yuri gaped, standing to argue in his stern but quiet way, his blades thudding softly with the guards over the steel blades as he stomped over to where his always and now infuriatingly impulsive coach was “When-Wha-How? It’s my exhibition! You can’t just change-“

A finger over his lips brought him to a hushed halt. Victor looked at him with the same face as when he told Yuri to reduce the difficulty of his freeskate at regionals, sans the poodle tissue box. “I am changing your program. I think you’ll like it. Can you _still_ not listen to your coach?”

“But it’s the night before…” Yuri spoke past Victor’s finger, still pressed against his mouth.

Victor’s eyes softened with a knowing expression. Yuri’s anxiety had begun to crawl its way out from the final’s clutches and rested in the next performance to come.

_Yuri’s always stubborn when he wants to give his best performance. I should have seen this coming. _

He moved his hand from the mouth and cupped Yuri’s cheek, hoping a gentle touch would soothe the moment. “Give me a moment to surprise you, okay?”

Yuri unclenched his jaw and relaxed. Whatever this change was would be welcomed. “Okay.”

Victor paused for a moment to look deeply into those deep brown eyes one more time, wanting to use his hand to pull his face closer to his own, but knowing it wasn’t quite time. He grabbed the bag he’d been carrying all day and turned away to head towards the lockers, “Practice the jumps for Aria while I get ready.”

Yuri perked up, relieved that at least the jumps would be the same. “Hai!”

.

.

.

.

Forty-five minutes passed as Yuri jumped, hopped, and flipped his way through the main jumps over and over. He paused to lazily circle the rink; even his seemingly unending stamina actually had limits. After the emotional rollercoaster of the week, and then his “living legend Victor Nikiforov” difficulty level free skate program, his body was feeling the resistance. Their meager snacking on the taxi over did little to slake his hunger, and his stomach gurgled with each turn. His thoughts began drifting to Hasetsu and the katsudon he that would be awaiting his arrival. Drool began to dribble from the edge of his mouth…

KLINK

The door to the rink opened once more, causing Yuri to turn with a start, placing his hand over his heart as he gasped for air, “Vi-Victor!”

“Yuri!” Victor called out, waving his arm enthusiastically. He was still wrapped in his taupe trench coat and Yuri couldn’t see a hint of what was underneath. Victor placed a purple speaker on top of the rink ledge and quickly turned it on.

_Victor’s phone, now paired, _the monotone robotic woman’s voice stated.

“Okay, Yuri. You ready to start?” Victor asked, phone in hand and ready to press play.

“Huh? Victor, you haven’t even told me what we’re-“

“Oh, yeah! I forgot.” he smirked, giving his best childlike ear-to-ear grin that made almost anything he said or did entirely forgivable. Yuri saw it and huffed, shaking his head. “Take the same starting position as Aria.”

Yuri agreed wordlessly and circled to the center of the rink, planting his toe pick down and bowing his head down with his arm inward to his center.

He was ready.

Victor hit play as the piano began to unfold the tune. It was hardly the first time Victor watched Yuri perform his Aria. Yuri performed it as his exhibition when he medaled at the Cup of China, but had left before the Rostelecom exhibition. But, every time, the way Yuri’s body traced over each syllable of the words like they were etched in his soul and not just playing on the speaker, Victor knew…

This is why he loved Yuri.

_Sento una voce che piange lontano_   
_(I hear a voice crying far away)_   
_Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato?_   
_(Have you been abandoned as well?)_

Yuri lifted his head somberly, eyes cast towards the ceiling as he held the back of his palm to his forehead, twisting around in a circle before embracing himself. His blades turned once more before he bent down to one knee, bringing his hand over his head as he waved and twisted upward to begin the long back and forth swinging turns until he toe picked and turned in a Quad Lutz.

_It took me so long to learn that jump, and I still can’t manage it enough to do in competition when the pressure’s on. Only in exhibition. _

_Orsù finisca presto questo calice di vino_   
_(Come now, let's empty this glass of wine soon)_   
_e inizio a prepararmi_   
_(I'll start getting ready)_

Yuri twisted and circled into a quad flip effortlessly. The burn in his legs became fuel with the quickening of the song’s momentum. By the final turn, Yuri launched himself into a perfect quad salchow, turning around to begin the spin…

….and stopped.

He didn’t notice the song cut to the chorus, or the addition of a woman’s voice alongside the bravado operatic man’s sound. He only can fixate on one thing gliding forward. Black dress pants, black undershirt, black fingerless glove, silver chrome fastening looping together an opaque wine overlay atop the black deep v-neck….

It was Victor’s Aria outfit floating towards him. He shook his head hard and refocused. Strands of silver wisped around watered blue eyes and settled to the back to keep his face exposed but still framed. No, it was Victor Nikiforov, coming towards him majestically decked out in his Aria costume with a reaching hand coming to touch his fingers to Yuri’s cheek tenderly. His idol, his coach, his-

“And then it will go something like that!” Victor cheered placing his hand on his hip and his finger to his mouth, pausing the music and stopping Yuri dead in his train of thought. “What do you think?”

Yuri was as frozen as the first time Victor showed him the Eros routine. The best vocalization he could muster was a barely audible, “Wh-what do I think of what?”

_Why is Victor in his Aria outfit? It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him this close in it. He looks…just…_

There was no adjective in any language to adequately describe just how mesmerizing Victor looked in his aria outfit, even if some of the details changed. Yuri wondered why he would change his outfit from white to black, and gold to silver, but he couldn’t form a coherent thought to express anything above intermittent stammering between nods as Victor explained what the program entailed.

“…and then I’ll lift you here on this part.” Victor stated, pausing for a moment to look back down at the notes on his phone.

“Lift me?”

“Yes, Yuri, it’s a pair skate. Of course, there will be lifts.”

“P-p-pair skate? With Victor?... I mean-with you?”

“Yes, Yuri. Like I just said, you’ll start with the beginning verses, the same as Aria, and then I’ll come in at the chorus after the last quad…”

Yuri’s brain was inundated with all of the thoughts and ideas Victor was spitting out until he could no longer contain the overload, “Wait, you had the song changed?”

“Yes.”

“And you changed the program to a pair skate?”

“Yes.”

“And you changed your outfit?” Your said, his voice strained from the dryness of the air and the state of terminal confusion he had just diagnosed himself with.

“Oh, you noticed?” Victor mused, flattered. “You are dressed almost like you were in the video I watched of you doing this very skate. And I am in almost the very outfit I was the day I won the last worlds. So…” He smirked and skated off to the rink before turning, extending his arm like the first day in the onsen eight months prior. “Yuri, skate with me?”

“Eh?” Yuri balked, still not sure if he was hearing right. “When did you have time to do all this? How long have you been planning?”

Victor pronounced his hand once more, feeling agitated at the hesitation after his big reveal. “Yuuuuurrriii. Are you going to answer me?”

“Are you going to answer me?!?!” Yuri screeched.

Victor pulled his hand back and rubbed his temples. “Since after you won silver at the Cup of China.”

“Really?” Yuri thought back to the Cup of China.

“Yes. Yuri, now will you skate with me? We have a lot to go through for you to remember it overnight….” Victor’s voice trailed off.

_The kiss. He’s been planning this since he…_

_Everything on the ice is love._

Yuri’s blades scratched the ice as he leapt, throwing his arms over Victor’s shoulders. Whatever Victor was saying was derailed by the surprise hug, but Victor wasn’t going to complain. It was more along the line of what he thought Yuri’s reaction would be. He pulled Yuri back for a moment to look at him squarely, “So, you’ll do it? Right, Yuri?”

“Yes!”

.

.

.

.

The pair practiced into the beginning hours of the next day, circling and intertwining their movements until Yuri found the same grasp Victor had shown him. By the tenth run-through, the movements were as fluid as the song itself, each touch and lift interconnecting to the music as though they were the instruments and voices themselves. Yuri began the paces of the initial jumps, doing a single loop instead of a jump to not torture his body any more than he already had.

Victor pushed off the rink and glided once more towards him, but this time Yuri extended his hand to meet palm with palm to Victor’s. The wine colored sheer shone as Victor reached up to hold briefly against Yuri’s cheek. They spun, Victor setting his hand on Yuri’s small waist before he turned to lift him up and spin him before dipping him down.

Yuri no longer felt estranged from the moment in the dance. He wasn’t watching Victor’s Aria from afar or performing a solo reaching for a soul in the distance that couldn’t hear him. It was them, and this moment, together.

_Stammi vicino, non te ne andare_

_(Stay close to me, don't go)_

_Ho paura di perderti_

_(I'm afraid of losing you)_

As Victor lifted Yuri delicately from the dip, the strength of his arms was defined in the ridges of Yuri’s back. Yuri knew he was protected, safe in Victor’s arms. The black strands wafted with the breeze of the upturn and he grabbed the deep pink hued sheer on the shoulder, squeezing up as he rose to help raise himself up, catching a glint of one blue eye. Yuri leaned in on the motion upwards, putting his face millimeters from Victor’s, and whispered a kiss between their lips so quiet and soft it might have gone unnoticed if Yuri hadn’t come to a complete halt in motion, the edges of their lips still touching.

The brown eyes widened as he flinched backwards, causing Victor to open his eyes in startle from where he had closed them from the moment, he felt their lips brush. “Ah, I’m sorry!” Yuri flailed, the entire top half of his face bleeding crimson from embarrassment. “I just- I didn…”

_OhmygodIjustkissedVictor. How the hell did I do that? I’ve thought about it, a lot, actually. But I never thought I’d do it. Why is he looking at me like that? Shimatta…._

“Did you mean it?” Victor’s voice sounded coarse and concerned instead of just asking. He folded his arms together and stared at the hapless mess in front of him.

“Well…I…didn’t…I don’t know…” Yuri trailed off, pulling strands of hair through his hands as he ran his fingers through.

“Either you meant it or you didn’t, Yuri.”

“You don’t have to say it like that!”

“I don’t know how else to say it. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.” Victor stated emphatically.

“What?”

Victor narrowed his eyes and shook his head. _I know he said he never had a lover, but he can’t be this dense, can he? I hug him, hold him…I kissed him, dammit! I got him a ring when I realized he got mine…but he said it was a good luck charm and he’d skate his best from then on. I know he isn’t always open and aware but I didn’t think I needed to be that obvious. He just kissed me back for the first time and he is acting like it was a mistake...Yuri, do you not know how you feel? Or are you still afraid to go that deep? What can I do to show you the truth?_

“Viktor?” Yuri’s voice was timid and shaking. He looked down to the ice and started to play back and forth with the tips of his fingers, trying something, anything to bring him back from the ledge. Victor went to his phone, going through a few gallery files until one popped up: _Sochi Banquet: Grand Prix Final_. He scrolled to the video he knew he saved after it was sent to him last year.

“Here, watch this. I’ll be right back.” Victor handed over his phone as he spoke before skating away hurriedly. Yuri glanced from Victor’s blur visage back to his phone and read the title of the file. He hadn’t wanted to even think of what a disaster of drunken escapades he entangled himself in on that night. But, Victor wanted him to see whatever happened in this clip, so he swallowed hard and pressed play.

_The video panned over an onslaught of curious, concerned, and awkward group of attendees. A few had their phones out as well, no doubt recording whatever scene was displayed before them. _

_ “Victoruu..” Yuri’s drunken Kyushu dialect slur radiated over the speaker as the person filming chose to stop filming the crowd and focus the camera on the instance at hand. It was certainly a sight to behold. Somewhere along the night, the depressed skater had lost his pants, leaving him only clad in (thankfully) his underwear as he grinded haphazardly against Victor’s waist, leaving Victor not knowing where exactly to put his hands, so he let them dangle to the sides as Yuri clung around his shoulders. His shirt and jacket flailed with each thrust as he made his plea, “After this season ends, my family runs a hot spring so please come…”_

_ Yurio looked disheveled from what could only be assumed was his already occurred infamous dance off that the named skater described as, “Disgusting” and the left of Victor appeared to be a half getting dressed Chris, so maybe the pole dance had just finished? There was no way to be sure as the camera centered on Yuri’s flushed, drunken face. _

_ “If I win this dance off… you’ll become my coach, right?” Yuri asked, his eyes shining like he was looking for something. The excitement became too much in the imbiber’s body and he leapt forth, swinging his arms over Victor’s shoulders. _

_“Be my coach, Victor!”_

The clip cut out as Victor’s cheeks flushed for one of the few times he ever saw the man blush. He almost never embarrassed. But this?

“Victor, what does this have anything to do with what just happened?” Yuri called out in question to wherever in the rink Victor had wondered off to. He started a bit when he heard blades scratching on this ice behind him.

“That video explains everything, Yuri.” Victor twirled around until he planted a toes pick just in front of Yuri’s quizzical stance, holding a white garment bag. “That was the beginning of all this.” He said, lowering his arm to express all of himself.

Yuri hit his head against his head as the realization set in, “I can’t believe I got drunk and asked you to coach me.”

“It was the most amazing moment of my entire life until then.”

“What? Why?” Yuri wondered.

“Did you watch until the end? Did you see my face?”

“Yes-but…”

“That was the exact moment I fell in love with you, Yuri.”

Yuri deadpanned him, “Whhhhaatttt? You really? You’re in…with me?”

Victor sighed, “Yes, Yuri. When I came after seeing you skate my program, I was already in love with you. Maybe it was different for you- I don’t know if it was or even is…Maybe I’m just picking up the wrong…”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Then why hide from me? When we are away it seemed like you felt the same. Then we’d go back to Hasetsu and everything reset. I thought maybe you were afraid of your family…or me…but…”

“No”

“Then what?”

“You never….” Yuri started, bringing his hands together and keeping his face lowered. “…kissed me again…”

“You never kissed me back.”

“Whhhatt? I…”

“And then you did kiss me back just now, but you can’t even tell me how you felt about it.”

“I…that was my….first….”

“Oh, so that’s it." Victor said, skating until his skate was in-between both of Yuri’s, the crevice of their thighs lightly touching. He brought his hand to his chin in thought. “Maybe I should kiss you properly, then?”

All Yuri could do was gulp and nod. His heart ricocheted echoing heartbeats faster than a machine gun, until he thought for sure his own beating organ would fly out of his chest and splatter on the rink’s white ice. Victor pulled away from him for a moment and Yuri’s heart sank. The skater with a heart of glass almost shattered for the second time. But when Victor reached to grab his ringed hand, pulling it up to kiss it before lowering both hands down together, a fragment of the dread became bliss.

“Yuri, you gave me my ring as something for me to hold onto…to thank me. I think maybe you meant something more, but you never said, so I’m going to.” Victor looked straight into the mahogany eyes as he planted one knee into the ice. “Eight months ago, I became your coach. Three months before that you seduced me, and I fell in love. When I said we should build our relationship, you backed off, so I decided to meet you in whatever way possible. But you gave me this ring..” He held up where he had their hands together for emphasis, “And now, I’m giving you this….”

Victor unfurled the white garment bag and displayed the remnants beneath. Almost to an exact replica, but smaller, Yuri saw Victor’s Aria outfit reimagined. The silver clasps matched Victor’s, but the shining sheer fabric was a royal blue instead of the pink. Yuri gasped in awe of the ensemble; his ensemble.

“Yuri, I don’t want to stay with you just for five years. I don’t want to just take care of you until you retire. It sounded like a marriage proposal then, but with everything that’s happened I decided to make my own declaration. Stammi vicino, non te ne andare; Stay close to me and don’t go.” Victor said raising the garment bag for Yuri to take the costume into his own arm. “Yuri, I love being your coach, but since you got the rings all I really want is to be your fiancé…and then your husband.”

Yuri looked at him wide-eyed, trying desperately to hold onto any sense of reality while his mind wondered in disbelief. Nothing had prepared him to seeing Victor Nikiforov down on one knee in front of him.

Victor could see the wheels in Yuri’s brain working endlessly to gain the reins back to his usual self-deprecating way. He squeezed their ringed hands together and decided to bite the bullet before Yuri bubbled into the molten liquid gusher of questions and denial, “…Yuri Katsuki, will you marry me?”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Few moments in Yuri’s life left him teetering upon the line between confidence and anxiety -- wells that threatened to drag him into the pit if he slipped even slightly to yield on either side. Mostly, the black sticking dread tethered to him in such a fashion, he felt he was drowning twelve feet under water before he’d even chanced a try to flee from the depths of apprehension. Everything changed when Victor arrived on the cusp of an irregular April snow. Though nothing could ever completely quell his nerves, he learned to build new strengths with Victor’s guiding hand…

….and a few seriously cruel moments.

_Yuri, if you mess up and miss the podium…I’ll take responsibility and resign as your coach. _

The black spikey ends of Yuri’s hair poked the sides of his cheeks as he shook his head to erase the thoughts. This was not one of Victor’s passive-aggressive, yet charming, ploys or suggestions. Yuri looked down to behold the man bending on one knee, in front of him. The glints of wine shimmered in the reflection of the silver tassels, jostling in the sway of Victor fidgeting to stay planted in position, waiting for an answer.

_ Victor really just got down on one knee in his Aria outfit and asked me to marry him…_

Victor held a steady but deep breath, meeting Yuri’s perplexed gaze. Whether the time had only ticked by for seconds or hours, it felt like a lifetime; he watched Yuri contemplate in silent repose. He twisted his head gently to push his silver strands out of his eye without losing his grip on Yuri’s hand.

_Is he going to cry? Is he going to faint? Is he going to answer at all? I thought it would be a simple enough gesture to show him what I mean. Maybe I surprised him too much. Can I do that? I always though-_

A push of an index finger planted firmly in the silvery platinum swirl of Victor’s hair part. He looked up at Yuri, who had in the moments of Victor’s trail of thoughts managed to let his hand free and smush his finger on the top of Victor’s cranium. Circles of blue widened in glee as Victor peered once more at Yuri’s face. Those once anxiety filled eyes softened to an amused openness, a willingness. There were tears begging to escape the edges, but that seeking look Victor adored remained prominent. He even saw the hint of a giggle escaping from Yuri’s mouth.

Victor rose up, grabbing back Yuri’s hand and pressing against the silver clasps of his chest. “Is that a yes?”

Yuri smirked at his moment of comical reprieve and nodded, “Yes.”

A long muscular arm reached and pulled the rest of Yuri’s body into Victor’s chest as he leaned close. Silver wisps beginning to entangle in the black spikes as Victor’s sultry voice spoke almost into Yuri’s wanting but quivering lips, “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Huhhh?!”

“Go get changed, Yuri!” Victor replied playfully, pushing his hands out to shoo Yuri outside the rink. He enjoyed observing the melded face of Yuri’s expression as it changed from disappointed to a new type of thrilled. “We should do our song once before we leave properly.”

“Our song?”

“Yes, this song cuts out the unsavory bits about cutting the throats of lover and leaves just the message: Stay close to me. The first was Aria, this is Duetto. The two of us.” Victor explained, beaming with pride as he finally felt the fruits of his surprise. “you ready?”

“H-Hai!” Yuri’s face lit up with the same brilliant joy as the moment Victor brought out his own ring.

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For once, the sight beheld in Victor’s eyes as the rink doors opened and the vision of Yuri as he strode back through the door came through, feet bumping as he reached to the edge, left Victor utterly speechless. His voice caught on the tip of his tongue as he all but drooled over his newly minted partner. Yuri’s sheer blue overcoat glistened like it held a thousand tiny diamonds as he made his way back to the rink. Yuri even styled back his hair enough that his bangs no longer fell over his forehead, making his big brown eyes look larger than normal.

“Victor?” Yuri asked as his blades swished over the ice while he skated forward.

“Wow!!!” Victor finally managed to exclaim, throwing his pale hands over his lips as his eyes dazzled in wonderment, blue eyes glistening at the start of tears forming.

“What?” a sheepish voice came from Yuri as his finally reached Victor’s side, suddenly becoming embarrassingly aware that he was the source of his fiancé’s astonishment. He glanced down over his ensemble, wondering if he fastened the clasps incorrectly. Yuri had no idea just how intricate of a piece the costume was until he was putting it on for himself.

“I knew blue was your color but it’s still astonishing to see you in it. You look amazing, Yuri!” Victor mused, etching his way to the outside of the rink so he could start the music as Yuri took his place in the center.

The plucks of the piano began anew as Victor his play, ushering Yuri into the same dance he performed for the better part of the night. Yet, somehow, this time felt completely distinguishable from every other time he had performed either version. Yuri twisted as he felt the music and looked down as he swirled to where the mesh black looped into his middle finger, right next to his gold band. Suddenly he knew as he kicked through the first quad.

_This is it. The ice, the blades, the program, the music…these costumes. The ring. _

_ This is our song._

_ This is our life. _

Yuri vaulted through the quad flip with a newfound resilience and resolution. He knew, as he turned for the final quad in the beginning that Victor would be coming to his side. He felt the lightness of air as his legs catapulted him through four turns…

_Victor’s not just coming to my side for a dance, or for a moment. He’s coming to my side to stay because he wants to._

_ Victor wants me. _

The wine aria shirt fluttered as Victor pushed out and skated to Yuri’s side, clasping his fingers into his own. Yuri lifted his hand to deftly finger his imprints on the sides of Victors almost translucent jawline in the light. He succumbed to the flow Victor’s hand on his waist guiding up in the air and back down into the dip that had just triggered the possible impromptu proposal earlier, Yuri wasn’t quite sure.

Victor wasn’t wasting another moment of opportunity as he pulled Yuri’s dangling lithe body up with ease. His eyes turned from half lidded to closes as he embraced Yuri fully, their coats meshing to a purple hue against the light as their arms wrapped into one other. Victor turned his head slightly as he leaned into to Yuri’s space. Brown eyed gaped in wideness and felt the warm sensation of lips on his own…

…and they kissed. Yuri melted into the sensation and soon closed his eyes, returning the kiss the best he could given his inexperience. The plush feeling of Victor’s mouth tenderly but firmly planted on his own sent surges of bliss through his body, and he completely surrendered to the moment, going slightly limp in Victor’s arms. The crescendo of the chorus faded out until well beyond silence before Victor pulled away, planting a few more light kisses on him before completely pulling away and lacing their fingers together like Yuri had done at the Cup of China before Eros.

This time was not just a fleeting moment between Yuri wanting it to be real and flirting with the idea of what Eros meant to him before a show. Yuri didn’t just feel the nervous push to keep Victor from the world. He was with Victor and Victor was with him.

Victor smirked at his partners loving expression, “Is that what you were wanting?”

Yuri smiled and turned his mouth into grin like he did after his into in his Eros program. He leaned up and pressed his lips into Victors with a gentle hesitation. Yuri still wasn’t sure if he was doing it right, but he wanted to show Victor how much this meant beyond his own worry. He heaved a sigh into Victor’s mouth, causing the silver bangs to swivel as a hearty laugh was released from Victor.

“I think I might have found the end of your stamina. Neh,Yuri?”

“Y-yeah.”

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The towers flickered and blurred into a Picasso of concrete yellow ambiguity as Victor looked out the window from the back of the taxi. From the moment Yuri laid his head against Victor’s shoulder the scent of familiarity and the promise of rest lulled him into an almost comatose state on the short drive back to the hotel. Victor peered down to watch his sleeping beauty, noting the wet mark starting to form on the seam of his coat. He huffed a laugh to himself as he tipped his head down to kiss the side of his slumbering love’s head and squished their interwoven fingers that lay on the side of Victor’s thigh.

_He hasn’t wanted to let go since I took his hand. Maybe he is not letting his anxiety get the better of him like I thought he would. _

“Rough night?” the cab driver’s thick accent managed to articulate enough to.

“Da.” Victor said, presuming the man might be Russian given his pale complexion and gruff features and decided to try [Not really rough. Just exhausting]

[Oh, you’re Russian? Sorry, I couldn’t tell…]

Victor laughed carefully, trying not to rouse Yuri from his slumber. He needed as much sleep as possible since Victor had wrecked his free program, along with his plans to leave. [Yes. I used to get that a lot as a child. I wasn’t a normal looking Russian, I guess]

[Most Russians aren’t so…] He gestured to Victor’s delicate featured face, [they’re much more like me] He chuckled heartily from the bellows of his thick body. The cabbie caught the glimpse of silver shimmering as they passed through a light and he spoke with a gruntled shock, [Oh, you’re that skater…what was it? Vix-Van-]

[Victor] he corrected, [Victor Nikiforov]

[Right! So, what’s with the…] he trailed off, pointing to the passed-out man nearly snoring on Victor’s shoulder.

[Oh, this is my fiancé!] he beamed proudly, showing his engagement ring as it reflected in the parlor of the glowing streetlamps s the driver turned to the last stretch of street until their hotel.

[Congratulations, then!] the Russians thick gruff voice range surprisingly merry in the moment, and Victor smiled to be able to say it aloud to someone else for the first time.

He moved his hand to brush some of the hairs out of Yuri’s eyes where he black strands had fallen over in the turn of the vehicle. [ Thank you! We just got re-engaged tonight!]

[Re-engaged? So, you two broke up and then got back together?]

[No]

[So, you just wanted a second engagement]

Victor hesitated, [Not necessarily…]

_How can I explain the last eight months to someone who has no idea about the skating world?_

Victor would have whiplash if the stop from the abruptness of the stop had Yuri’s body not been weighting him back.

[This is your stop!] the cabbie called, changing from the awkwardness of the conversation.

Their clasped hands unfolded as Victor pat the top of Yuri’s leg to nudge him awake since the jolt of the stop wasn’t enough to bring him to from his torpor.   
“Yuri, we’re here”

Yuri woke with a start, coming to and sitting up fast enough causing the blood to rush to his head, making him star eyed with dizziness. “Oh! Okay” he said as he reached his hand for Victors to help him out of the back of the taxi. “How long was I out?”

“About twenty minutes.” Victor said as he handed over his card to the driver to pay.

The man made quick work of swiping despite his pudgy hands. He turned to Yuri as he stuck his arm back out the window to hand Victor’s card back. “Congratulations!”

Yuri froze, stunned that the man had any indication that he needed celebration, then bowed his head politely, “Oh, arigatougazaimasou. I only won silver because of Victor’s coaching”

The driver spat as he rolled the window up and paused. “Wait?!? He’s your student, too?!?!”

Victor waved innocently, ushering Yuri forward before he had a chance to ask any questions. “Bye! Thank you for driving us!”

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The door closed with a clink and a thud. Yuri heard the sound of a latch that he assumed was Victor shutting them in for the night. It seemed like an eternity since he laid eyes on the Barcelona hotel beds set precariously close together even though they were separate twin beds.

_It almost looks like someone pushed them together, but they couldn’t have. Could they?_

He glanced back to see Victor’s pale arms reaching to pull his blue coat from his shoulders, moving to hang it alongside Victor’s in the closet space before the entry of the bathroom. Victor’s arms returned once more making a rim over his shoulders as he pecked a kiss on Yuri’s cheek. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then I’ll come to bed.” He said before stepping into the bathroom.

The door latching shut shook Yuri out of his trance and he reached up to still feel the remnants of warmth on his cheek where Victor’s lips had just been. _This is really how it is now? _He thought. _I…I want this. I know I do. I just…have no idea how to handle this. Victor seems like he knows exactly what he’s doing, like always. I don’t exactly have a backlog of relationship experience. The closer we get, the closer we get to…_

Yuri gulped with such force he left an ache in his throat.

_Bed._

The rush of the showerhead being turned on in the bathroom as the flow pattered on the tile and tub was enough ambiance to subvert Yuri’s attention from the rising ambush of nerves. He turned to find his phone in his coat pocket on the hanger. The black strands tousled against the stiff blue fabric as he ruffled through both folds until he acquired it. Phone found; he thumbed the side to turn it on before unlocking as he sat on the ledge by the same window Victor was seated the night he said they should end it.

_I didn’t want to strangle him as a competitor, but he found a way to make it work. I don’t know how he is going to do everything. Not just this season, but next year too._

Yuri scrolled through the numerous messages of congratulations he left forgotten in the unfolding of events since he stepped off the podium as a silver medalist. Texts from his parents, Yuuko, the triplets all giving the same adulations of him being a medalist. Maybe it wasn’t the gold medal, but it was something to know he perfected his free skate to a record-breaking performance. No matter the medal color, for once, the praise felt earned.

_Oh, I didn’t notice this text from Minako-sensei., _He though, thumbing over to click open.

[Yuuuuriiiii!!!! You did it! I’m so proud!]

[Do you want to meet for dinner tonight? We can celebrate!]

[No?]

[….We are going back to our hotel. Text when you see this.]

[Katsuki Yuri answer your phone!!!!! Are you hiding again?]

The back of Yuri’s spinal chord extended ten feet as he lunged backwards, reading the text like Minako was actually yelling in his face like the day he returned to Hasetsu when she chided him for refusing a handshake. His shock left so singularly focusing on thumbing a reply he didn’t notice the bathroom door open and Victor coming out, a towel barely hanging from his hips.

“Anything interesting, Yuri?” Victor inquired as he rummaged through his suitcase for a pair of briefs to sleep in for the night.

Yuri glanced up startled, looking up and over to find where the source of the voice came from. When he laid his eyes on Victor, his cheeks flushed a new shade of red. It was hardly the first time he had seen Victor basically unclothed, but it was like looking at him with new eyes. All the times in the onsen were normal to his Japanese culture where nudity didn’t carry the same taboos of sensuality. It was almost a completely different compartment for regular nudity and sexual nudity. He could appreciate Victor’s form from an almost bystander position in a regular frame of mind. After all, no matter what, it was still Victor Nikiforov.

Yet, this time his brown eyes drank in the contours of his back like a hearty wine, filling him with a new heat that tingled down to his toes and left him light headed. Every moment he watched Victor skate, including the near impregnating Eros showcase multiplied a hundred over as his mind patterned down from the crown of Victor’s silver hair to dips of his thigh to the ridges of his defined calves. Damnit, the man was perfection, and Yuri knew it.

Victor rose and turned, ready to change, then paused. He caught the lids of Yuri’s eyes at half mast, red peaking through his brown hues with a hunger Victor never thought he’d actually see. At least, before Yuri’s slack jawed awe paralyzed him enough that he dropped his phone, knocking onto his lap before it bounced on his knee and landed a few feet away on the floor.

“Shimatta…” Yuri cursed frantically, falling to his knees to regain his phone…and his bearings.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ogle me quite like that, Yuri. That may be the most Eros look, yet.” The sound of a Russian tone dragging through the sultry low tones in Victor’s voice as he leaned his shoulder against the wall of the main room’s entrance.

Yuri’s head snapped up, exposing Victor to a shade of crimson blushing past the edges of his ears and intruding into the black follicles of his hairline. He rushed up and shuffled past Victor like a blur into the bathroom muttering, “I need to brush my teeth.” as he rushed by.

A few minutes passed by as Victor listened to the sounds of the bathroom faucet while he laid leisurely on his twin mattress, checking his phone, clad only in his trademark snug fitting black briefs. He managed to change while Yuri went about his business in the bathroom, though he listened intently to hear any noises beyond the rush of water. Hearing nothing more than what he assumed was Yuri swearing to himself in Japanese, he wrapped his hand once more over his pink case with the Aria design on the back, and resolved to check SMS Insta.

V-Nikiforov

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. (Photo of Victor and Yuri outside the locker room. Yuri caught off-guard)

Liked by christophe-gc and 8,354 others

V-Niforov: Commemorative Photo Part 2 #gpf #myyurimedals

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phichit+chu: OMG! Yuri!!! Your face :0

christophe-gc: Congrats on the gold…I mean silver, you two! #youknowwhatimean

Otakuskates4lyfe0424: Is that really your boyfriend?!?!?!

Scheziu: That’s his student Yuri Katsuki.

Otakuskates4lyfe0424: I know buttttt….. do you see the photos? THE RINGS!

Downer5_: SMH. HE’S JUST HIS COACH. Get over it. JFCGD

Startled but still utterly amused, Victor laughed at the amount of comments wanting to uncover whether or not the two of them were an item. Some went into further argument with one another over whether or not the kiss in China meant anything. The majority of the comments ranged from pleasant and excited, with a few unsavory that Victor actually deleted hoping Yuri would never see them. He rarely was on social media, anyways.

_If those people thought they were confused, they should have seen inside our heads. _Victor thought, shaking his head at himself.

Yuri suddenly appeared like an apparition in the doorway of the hall, mouth frothing with white suds of toothpaste and his toothbrush sticking out like a half-cut cigar, “What are we going to do when we leave here? Where are we going?”

Blue eyes went wide with confusion as he stared perplexed at the petite disheveled mad man standing in front of him. _Oh, that’s what he was doing. Freaking out. That makes sense. _

Victor rose off the bed and walked over to Yuri, placing both of his hands on his shoulders before kissing the top of his head gingerly. “We can discuss that tomorrow morning, after we sleep. Exhibition practice isn’t until eleven. Get changed and we can go to bed.”

There it was, that word again.

_Bed. _

Yuri went back in reluctantly and returned to rinsing his mouth out. He wiped his face and looked at the dark spots starting to form under his tired eyes. He couldn’t shake the thoughts swirling in his anxious mind. He turned, flinging the door open, only to stop with a start seeing Victor in the doorway, staring out him with his dark, sweet grin.

“What is Yakov going to say when you tell him you’re staying on as my coach?!?!” Yuri blurted, heaving in deep breaths trying to regain composure.

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Victor shrugged, shoving Yuri’s bedclothes in his confused arms before snaking his arms around Yuri’s back and pulling him close. “You forgot your clothes.” He purred, inching the rest of the way to steal a kiss against Yuri’s mouth before sauntering back over to sit on the bed.

Somewhere between the rink and the hotel Yuri’s fragile confidence had crashed right into his anxiety, leaving the brown eyes as wide in shock as the first time he felt those lips on his own. He no longer wondered about Victor’s genuineness, of the truth of his affection, but he waffled on just how much of this affection he could return…correctly…and where a kiss could-would lead to…

He stepped into his garments, a pair of loose-fitting grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. _At least he gave me a shirt, _Yuri thought, coming out and standing at the edge of the wall between the end of the hall and the opening to where the beds were. Victor sat on the edge of what had been his bed for the week, lost in his phone. Yuri’s eyes faded from the moment, from rippling anxiety to adoration as he watched silently before reverting back.

_I spent my whole life wanting to meet him as an equal, admiring him from afar…yearning for him. Trying to replicate every move to be better myself…and now he’s here and he’s my…_

“How are you going to plan a short program and free program for yourself now?” Yuri suddenly inquired, interrupting his own thoughts.

Victor perked up curiously, leaning over to attach his phone to the charger before peaking over and noticing the deep brown of anxiety that Yuri’s eyes turn when he gets nervous.

_He’s stalling. What does he think is going to happen? _Victor thought as he stood back up to his full height to pull the covers down. “I will figure everything out. After I get some sleep. Are you coming too?”

Yuri scuttled his feet to the edge of his side of the beds, blue eyes fixed on him the entire time, causing hackles to raise on his neck. He paused, bringing his hands to press his fingers together as his eyes shuffled from the bed to Victor to back to the bed, again. “Uh-Uhmm-I…”

The tension of trying to pick apart the insides of that anxious mind left more that a perturbed feeling bearing on Victor’s shoulders. He huffed and gave a look like the one on his face the day Yuri couldn’t find the bag of nuts they had just bought, “Yuri, if you keep hesitating like that I won’t know if you are actually willing or not. You’re going to have to tell me-or at least show me what you want so I don’t feel like I’m forcing all this on you.”

Yuri took a second of pause to process what Victor said. _What do I want? _He thought momentarily, before his actions leapt ahead of himself. His grey sweats ruffled as Yuri clamored over the top of his twin and over to Victor’s, turning to face the window away from where Victor stood. Yuri’s heart had turned into a jackhammer and he was sure it was plowing through his chest as fast as it was beating when he felt Victor’s knees make an imprint on the bed. He clicked the light off before he rolled in to mold, his chest and leg against the back of Yuri’s frame, inching his arm closer until it folded over the center of Yuri’s chest over his t-shirt. Victor wanted to feel his skin, but he supposed that would need to wait for another night.

Shaking but resilient, Yuri raised both his hands to latch onto Victor’s hand on his chest, holding with a force of will, hoping that his body would calm from the rolls of trembles surging through it. Victor seemed to sense this and spoke quietly against his ear, “Shhh… nothing more than this is going to happen tonight. Nothing will happen until you are ready.” Victor cooed, trying his best not to cause more fear. Yuri’s whole body relaxed and inched closer to Victor’s after realizing the bed really was going to be used for sleeping tonight, so Victor snaked his other arm underneath his side and pulled him flush against his chest. Silver strands of hair settled into black strands as Victor laid his head on top of Yuri’s.

“Were you always planning that?” Yuri asked genuinely

“What?”

“The-erm…proposal.” Yuri stated, wedging himself free enough so he could roll over and face his fiancé, looking squarely into the deep blues, crystals of lighter shades reflecting from the moon creating a sight he could get lost in. “You said you had the blue costume made and the song redone after China, but you didn’t say if it was your intention to actually ask me to be yours.”

Victor huffed and turned over onto his back looking pensively at the spackled white ceiling, “Hmmm, no…not originally.” Victor admitted. Yuri frowned slightly, defeated. “I didn’t think you were ready for that until you got me this ring.” He clarified, lifting his finger up until the moonglow caught the glimmer of gold, “But then you said we should end things, and I just…”

“Oh…” Yuri turned his head away in shame. He felt the tip of Victor’s index finger guide him by the tip of his chin until he was shoulder over the man’s chest, nose touching the tip of his own.

“There were reasons for what happened. We both made our decisions. We chose not to leave each other, and to take what we have to the next level.” Victor spoke subtly, his lips moving on Yuri’s to where he felt the words spoken. “Everything on the ice is love, now everything off it is too.” He closed in with the press of a kiss, and felt Yuri return it with a new sense of eagerness. Victor turned his head a few times to renew the formation, and then pulled Yuri back before the sensation could get the best of either of them. His deep blue eyes delved deep into a gaze of brown, the hints of rouge peeking out in the moonlight.

Victor pulled Yuri to lay his head on his chest and embraced him protectively. “Now, go to sleep.” He said with a soft laugh, feeling the limbs of his fiancé go limp as he finally succumbed to sleep.

_Waiting is going to be harder than either of us thought. _

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BzzzBzzzBzzz

The edge of the side table moaned underneath the vibrations, shaking the blue plastic case with poodle cartoons as the clacking rang into the still hotel room. Yuri's thin arm extended to blindly find the source of the disturbance. His fingers retracted as they drifted out from the body warmed covers and touched the chill of the uninhabited edge of the sheets, and then nothing.

A bleary, unfocused eye peaked out and shifted slightly behind, trying to figure out why his arm couldn’t stretch to the table. With the edges of the black out curtains only giving a hint of sunlight through the morning rise, Yuri’s vision wouldn’t align well enough at this angle to give a satisfactory reason. He grumbled incoherently as he flipped his arm back over, only to jolt as the very same arm flattened over taught, silky flesh. Throbbing panic burst in his chest as both brown eyes flew open in surprise. He adjusted as his faculties resurfaced from the entrapment of slumber and recognition set back in.

_My arms been over Victor’s chest all night. That’s right. _

Yuri’s torso twisted as he sat up, wading his arm under the side of the pillow to retrieve his glasses. Now with his sight restored to somewhat normal still given the lack of light, he sought to take inventory of the room. His phone indeed lay on the nightstand, but on the side of the unused bed.

I must have thrown it on the stand before I came over here. I fell asleep so hard, too. I don’t even remember falling asleep…just the way Victor’s arm was around me…it was just like when he squeezed my shoulder after Hot Springs on Ice. I’ve never felt so calm before. I liked it. This feeling.

A smile crept over the sleepy haze on Yuri's face as he lifted to turn and stretch his body as far as it could go to find out what made his phone vibrate. His knee folded over the gap and onto the other bed, while the other remained outstretched behind him. His fingers barely grabbed the phone in the position before something wrapped around the leg holding for balance. Yuri twisted to awkwardly glance behind and found Victor had turned to latch his arms around Yuri’s leg like it was Makkachin.

Whether or not Victor actually remained asleep through the commotion was yet to be discovered, as Yuri treaded back over the edge of the bed with care, releasing his leg slowly from the man’s clutches. Once his back readjusted against the headboard, he chanced a peak down to his left. Victor’s even deep breathing reminded Yuri of their first meeting in Hasetsu. Yuri had been so overwhelmed by the sudden showing of his idol that the most he could muster was to stare in silence as Victor ate, drank, and passed out on the floor in front of him. Instead of only watching, Yuri brushed the silver bangs back from his eyes, deftly running barely an imprint over the full grey lashes.

How many posters did I have in my room? He sleeps like a photograph…. One only I get to see.

As Victor’s arm ran over Yuri's lap and settled down over both thighs as he pulled his sleeping self to smush against the side, Yuri allowed himself to resume his previous goal of checking through his phone.

“Mhhh….what time is it?” came a low whine Yuri could only assume was a still mostly comatose Victor.

“8 a.m.” he said while thumbing a reply on his phone, “Minako-sensei and Mari-neechan want to meet for breakfast since they didn’t get to see me last night.”

Something akin to a growl vibrated on Yuri's side before lips touched to a bit of exposed flesh from where his shirt pushed up, leaving the heat on Yuri’s face to glow red. “Mhh… ten more minutes."

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By the time the hour rolled over to 9 a.m., Yuri and Victor sat against the plush chairs in the restaurant awaiting the other two of their party. The white saucer thudded on the table as Yuri sat his tea down, trying to read through the menu. At least, until the hairs on his neck stood on end feeling the burn of hundreds of eyes. He couldn’t help but notice people gawking as they passed by.

Two younger pair skaters stood near the edge of the table waiting to be seated, whispering amongst themselves in a tone only audible to Yuri from his vantage on the outer seat.

_“I heard they got married.”_ the ginger haired girl said.

_“Who?”_ her partner asked, thumbing through his phone completely unaware. The crevice of the folds in the man’s white jacket caught the tips of Yuri’s hair as the guys turned a shoulder to look for who the girl spoke of.

The black tresses whished as the man in the pair was jerked from his jolt_. “Them…right there…shh! Don’t look so obviously, geesh!”_

_“Really, them? I thought he was just his student. Some poor case he picked up instead of retiring. Weird.”_

Yuri shrunk a little in his seat, lifting the menu to act as a makeshift barrier between him and the two obliviously loud whisperers.

_“Yeah…it’s weird, right?”_

_“Mhm… and probably super illegal, if it’s true Victor’s returning.”_

_“I don’t think it’s illegal, not officially… just… y’know not the most ethical, maybe. _ _I don’t know. Who would say no to Victor Nikiforov, anyways? He could probably have God himself.”_

_“Pshh…he’s overrated. He’ll lose a lot of fans not being a bachelor, finally.”_

_“Whatev-Oh, look! Our tables ready!”_

Victor’s eye flashed under the silver strands imprisoning it as the pair skaters Yuri had just overheard passed behind their chairs. He slipped his arm behind his shrinking partner’s back, running his hand down Yuri’s spine through the fabric of his black workout shirt he wore in preparation for the exhibition practice. “Neh Yuri, you see anything you want?” his brows furrowed as he took in the change of Yuri’s demeanor. “Something wrong?”

Before either had a chance to answer, Minako and Mari spotted the duo from the entrance. the cheerleader-esque call resounded in the room. “Yuuuriii!!!!”

Black hair ruffled as Yuri piqued up to sitting properly in the chair like a child pulling his hand from the cookie-jar, eyes wide. “Minako-sensei. Mari-neechan. You got here quickly. I thought….”

“Why couldn’t you answer your phone last night?!?” Minako scolded with a pointed finger almost near the tip of Yuri’s nose. 

“Sum-Sumi masen.”

Minako brushed herself free of her fury and sat across the two next to Mari. “No one was able to reach you from home, either.”

“I know…I…we…”

“I thought maybe you went to bed as soon as you left, but you look tired.” Mari observed, glancing over the menu.

Minako looked over her former student, noticing slightly tired eyes and quirked a brow, “What were you doing?”

“I’m sorry,” Victor swooped his arm around Yuri and snuck a kiss on his cheek before pulling back up to sitting, winking at the two on the other side of the table. “I kept him up all night!”

“WHAT?!?”

“YURI!!!”

“V-Victor!!!” Yuri gaped; the entirety of the room tinted red from the glow emanating from under the black mop of hair.

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_Click. Scritch. Click. KRrrPOW!_

The practice before the exhibition left the cluster of ice dancers, pairs, and singles in the peak of sweat and exhaustion from the learned choreography. Not that the songs or moves were too strenuous or complex, but the multitude of people on the ice always added a hint of chaos into the mix. Yuri’s mind drifted off the ice and back to the morning’s breakfast. He etched his blades into the white frosty surface as he mohawked into a turn for the quad lutz…

“…_it’s weird, right?”_

_“Mhm… and probably super illegal if it’s true Victor’s returning.”_

_“I don’t think it’s illegal, not officially… just… y’know not the most ethical, maybe.”_

Yuri landed with a plop as he missed the landing and rolled thrice over himself until his nose planted itself into the ice.

Ice sprayed over him as a black metal toe picked, and slim fingers reached down to give him a hand up. “WATCH WHAT THE HELL YOU’RE DOING, KATSUDON!” Yurio barked, pulling Yuri to his feet once more.

“Gomen, Yurio.” He said as the frost fell back down on the ice with each pat on his leg. His brown eyes skimmed over the angsty blonde, noting the haggard expression underneath his usual black workout hoodie, “Congrats on the gold.”

“Yeah...thanks. Just keep your shit together, pig. There’s no excuse for falling now.” Yurio responded, flecks of ice flying from behind as he skated away to continue practicing. His black undershirt fluttered in the breeze of his motion as he lined up to position himself into a perfect quad salchow.

_He doesn’t seem very happy he won gold._

An index finger indented against Victor’s lips as he stood rinkside, gazing pensively at his athlete. Yuri rounded his portion of the rink for a take-off, and once more ended with his belly splayed against the ice.

_I wonder what is going on. Yuri usually only flubs jumps when he is nervous_._ The exhibition is supposed to be fun. He doesn’t have to worry about winning, he already won. Is he nervous because he only won silver? I can’t go out there with him because it would ruin the surprise. _

“We need to discuss your plans if you intend on competing in Nationals, Vitya.” A deep gruff sounded, blowing hot breath over the top of Victor’s scalp. Hands reached up to reset his silver hair back into place, turning around until he got a full view of the already irritated Yakov, arms folded over himself in utter disapproval of…something. “I can assume you’re done pretending to be a coach.” he gestured out to a face down Yuri, presuming that the failed jumps were because the two were finally separating.

The ridge of Victor’s mouth drew up into a heart shaped bow and he laughed as he slipped his hand to rub the back of his head and began to speak excitedly, “Yakov! See, about that-“

“Oi, Yakov! I’m done, let’s go.” Yurio interrupted as he stepped off the platform, grasping for his blade guards from the curve in Yakov’s elbow.

It was enough of a disruption to avert his attention from Victor onto his much smaller student. Even in skates, Yurio still stood a head shorter than Victor, managing to look like a pixie next to him. Steam appeared to shoot from Yakov’s ears in agitation, “HOW CAN YOU BE DONE IF I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU DO ONE MOVE FROM THE EXH-“

“I got what I needed, damn. I just want to sleep.”

Yakov huffed an elongated sigh, “He’s just like you. Alright, Yuri, let’s go.” He said, defeated, “You better not mess up your exhibition.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Yurio raised his hand in the air to sweep Yakov’s words away before returning it to his jacket pocket and shrugging away. His jade green eyes met with Victor’s for a moment before catching the glint of gold from the hand still rubbing against Victor’s head. Yurio’s blond layers folded over his face as he scoffed.

_Done being a coach, my ass. He never was a coach. _

Yakov paused, planting his hands back into his coat pockets, “We’re not done talking, Vitya.”

Lines of blankness drew where Victor’s piercing blue usually were until he flapped his head back and forth to come back to his usual carefree self. His ears twitched at the sound of one more misstep scratching on the ice, and he turned to see Yuri beginning to stumble through even the small step sequences. “Yuri!!!!” he waved out, drawing his student out of his step sequence as black work out pants billowed in the wind of the turn.

_He landed the Lutz several times last night. Is he too tired?_

“Let’s go take a nap!” he suggested as Yuri rounded to the edge of the rink. JJ was the sole person left on the rink at the time. An unusual sight given his propensity to feel confident enough to need little practice time. Victor paid little attention to it, though, and turned to hand the blade guards over to Yuri. “Something on your mind?”

A thin hand rounded over Victor’s dark blue coat and balanced on his shoulder as Yuri crouched to cover his blades. Sweat dripped from the ends of his raven hair making droplets on his cheek and nose as he kept his eyes averted, “N-no. Nothing’s on my mind. Let’s just go back.” Yuri stammered, latching his hand to thread into Victor’s, dragging him out of the arena before he could chance a further investigation.

_He’s lying. This isn’t the place to call him out on it, though. I’ll just keep an eye on him until we get back to the room. _

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The walk back to the hotel came and went in abject silence, no one really having anything beneficial to add by talking. Their hands stayed in a lover’s bind, mingling in as close of a squeeze as possible. Yuri turned his shoulder to obstruct the view of their hands from passerby’s, painfully aware of what everyone was thinking given what he overheard at breakfast.

_It’s weird. Is it weird that it’s him or weird that it’s…me? Victor chose to come to Hasetsu for me. He says I seduced him but…_

“Yuri?” the gentle tone of Victor’s voice caught Yuri off guard and he jumped. Somewhere a flash occurred, and they were back in the hotel room. He spun around to see Victor already putting their clothes away. The breeze of the door shutting made him shiver, and he realized the only item of clothing still hanging on him were his hip hugging black boxer briefs.

“H-Hah?!? What happened?” Yuri flailed, folding his arms to try to bring some semblance of modesty over his exposed chest.

Victor’s eyes blinked rapidly in confusion as he watched his fiancé try to cover himself. He huffed a laugh and began to roll his arms over the end of his beige sweater. “I asked you if you wanted to shower together. You didn’t really reply and just started undressing… I took that as a yes.” He said, the ends of the shirt ruffling his silvery strands as it came over. Victor tossed it over under their luggage with Yuri’s sweat soaked workout wear.

“Oh” Yuri replied, lowering his arms to relax naturally around him.

Soft damp thuds echoed as Victor walked over behind Yuri and wrapped his arms over his shoulders, drawing Yuri’s back to press against Victor’s exposed chest. He held there for a minute, placing a kiss on Yuri’s bare shoulder before leaning his head against it. “Come on, I’ll wash your hair like in the onsen.”

Water splashed around, pattering against the shower curtain before racing in droplets to the base of the tub from the spray against Yuri’s hair as Victor massaged the conditioner into his scalp. He ran his fingers up and down the entirety of his head, releasing as mush pressure as possible from the tense shoulders.

_He hasn’t said more than a few words since we got back. _

“Did something happen today, Yuri?” Victor asked, washing the last bit of conditioner from the obsidian hued locks. “You’ve been flubbing your jumps.”

Though Yuri didn’t respond directly, Victor could feel the muscle squeeze with tension as his hands ran over Yuri’s shoulder, trying to relieve them before the muscles had a chance to harden. “I wish you’d just tell me.”

“I-uhm-well….” Yuri spoke, mostly to the drain below him. Victor only caught the watered-down echoes gurgling out of the rising steam.

“Switch!” he interrupted. Though non-traditional since they were in a hotel bathroom in Barcelona and not a Japanese shower, the two made do. The chill of the cold back wall tiles of the shower made Victor wince as he leaned back, perched on the ledge of the shower to lower himself enough that his partner could have the height to wash him.

Yuri’s slick hands grasped the head of the shower nozzle and pulled it over to rinse Victor’s hair. Silver strands darkened to a dark grey as the water poured over his head, while Yuri reached for the shampoo bottle next to Victor’s thigh. Soap suds foamed between his palms as he started to lather the shampoo through the fine silk tresses. Washing Victor’s hair worked like a catharsis from his previous troubles, escaping from his self as his fingerprints got lost in the strands.

“Have you heard anybody saying anything about…us?” Yuri finally found the courage to ask.

Victor touched his finger to the edge of his chin in thought, “Hmm, no. Nothing more than the usual speculation… but you knew about that already.”

“Mhm.”

“Minako finally asked after you left for the bathroom this morning, I guess that’s new.”

_Yuri jumped out of his body and his ghost hung a few feet above the air from the embarrassment of Victor’s reply. He couldn’t bring himself to even give a cohesive retort as he watched his sister and teacher gape at him; his sister in her apathetic glaze and Minako with a glare between accusation and awe. He scrambled out of his chair, kicking it out from under him as he scurried out of the restaurant area in a fashion similar to the day his father told him about the arrival of a certain foreigner. _

_ “Yuri!!! Where are you going?” Victor called._

_ “Bathroom.” He shouted, not bothering to look behind._

_Victor returned to their guests and smiled pleasantly, “Well then, are you ready to order? I’ll pick something for Yuri.” His torso turned to look for their waiter and hail him over. _

_Orders delivered to the kitchen, Minako focused back to Victor and stared at the man and the ring, absorbing it thoroughly since the first time he declared before JJ interrupted. “So, it’s true, then?”_

_“Oh, this?” Victor asked coyly, waving his fingers up so the overhead light caught the gold. “Yes. We are engaged.”_

_Mari sat with an absent stare, not really sure of what to make of the reassurance that her younger brother was indeed engaged. Minako gave an incredulous smirk and then sank into a huff of blissful acceptance. She sipped her mimosa and fawned merrily, “Hmph. I wasn’t sure. It’s hard to tell with Yuri. He can be so closed off.” She rested her chin on her elbow and mulled over the information and suddenly stood on her chair and leaned her knee over the table, pointing, “You better take care of him!”_

_“I’ll do my best.”_

“What?” Yuri fumbled the head of the shower mid-rinse, bonking Victor on the forehead before he caught it with his opposite hand. ”GOMEN!”

“Ouch!” Victor exclaimed; he rose his arm to rub it but stopped when he felt lips press gently on the spot. _Oh_,_ How cute. _He thought before he spoke, “Y-Yeah. You never exactly confirmed the night we were all together before the short program. She wanted to go to the source.”

“She’salwaysmeddling…” Yuri grumbled, pausing to smother Victor’s hair under conditioner, swerving his hands around.

“I didn’t think you’d mind me telling her. We will eventually have to come out and let at least your family know. Yuri?” He lifted his head to look up at Yuri’s worried eyes, frozen in fear. Victor rose to unclench the spout from Yuri’s grasp and placed it back in its holder on the other wall. He stepped out to grab a towel from the stand, placing the white fluff over the lithe frame to cocoon him before covering himself with one.

The echo chamber in Yuri’s mind kept playing the same words over and over._ He’ll lose a lot of fans not being a bachelor. _The man’s ill spoken whisper ran like a broken track, joining in the choir with a few additions of his own as Victor led him over to the bed to finish drying him off while he kept in his stupor. _This isn’t just skating. This is his life. He loves his fans. I didn’t just take from the ice, I took him from the possibility of being with anyone else ever, again…. But I can’t lose Victor. I don’t want to. I can’t keep waffling between this. He steps into my heart and I step into his. Why does all this scare and thrill me at the same time?_

“Sometimes I’m still just the pork cutlet bowl.” Yuri blurted out unexpectedly as Victor sat the extra towel down on the bedside next to him.

“The tastiest pork cutlet bowl, I remember you saying.” Victor cooed, grabbing Yuri’s ringed hand with both of his own to place a kiss on the gold band. “Besides, I told you then I loved pork cutlet bowls.”

Brown eyes flashed gold as the lightning of understanding struck in his mind. He reacted on the flick of a pin in time, bowling Victor over to lay his back flat on the bed. Yuri settled over him, the cusps of his muscles mushing into Victor’s, arms branching to weave his fingers through damp silver tresses, clamping tightly as he dipped his face down. Lips twisted and overlapped, slipping one over the top and between to linger on the bounce of folded mouths until they pulled back.

Victor returned the intensity of the unexpected boldness and pulled his muscular pale arms up, fingers tracing up Yuri’s spine until he found his way into the dark tresses of his fiancé’s mane, gripping to tilt his head slightly to deepen the kiss further. He kept the kisses up, running his hands to deftly place over Yuri’s arm, reveling in the feeling of goosebumps that popped up as his hands traveled down Yuri’s smooth soft sides, only letting up when he felt Yuri’s knees start to rub together.

Victor pushed Yuri up to let him come for air. “All better?” he asked, smiling at the flush face looking longingly back down at him.

Yuri heaved drags of air in and out, but giggled with pleasure at the thought of the moment and nodded gleefully, “Mhm!”

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The darkness of the arena lent to the showcase atmosphere of the evening’s Grand Prix Final Exhibition. Opening ceremonies came and went with their usual cliché dances and tropes. Yuri wore just the black shirt and pants, in similar vein to before when he performed Aria in China’s exhibition. Victor worked painstakingly hard to ensure that no one, even the other athletes knew what he had up his sleeve. He just announced his glorious return to the ice after all, and he was going to hear the audience’s authentic cheer when he took the ice again.

“Next up is this year’s Grand Prix Women’s Gold medalist, first time winner… the United States’ Nat Thren!” Mooroka announced. The crowd gave a waving roar as a figure no bigger than Yurio twisted in a S shape around the rink. A black cloth mask covered nearly the entirety of her mouth, only exposing the edge of a small upturned nose and pale stiff lips. The gloss of her sheer one piece caught the reflection of the ice through her turn and shone into Yuri’s eyes, causing him to blink as he noticed the only exposed part of her out was a small window underneath the black laced design on her clavicles. As submerged in winning the Grand Prix for the men’s section as he had been, he completely forgot to even check who won the women’s gold.

“It’s been a weekend for both Men’s and Women’s figure skating. Thren impressed with record breaking Free Skate and short programs alongside Yuri Plisetsky’s sort program and Yuri Katsuki’s Free Program.” Mooroka declared emphatically as the up and coming skater went rink side.

Newscaster Oda was quick to fill in the gaps as they waited, “Agreed, Mooroka. Who would have thought a year without legendary Victory Nikiforov to be so intense?”

“I’m not sure, Oda-san. It appears Thren’s coach is going over costume adjustments one more time. Nat Thren’s performances always have some sort of interesting feature, usually one of her many wigs like this short white appears to be, but this is her first time wearing anything covering her face. Can she even see?”

Yuri twanged as he felt the sensation of lips against the top of his head. Victor snickered against his black gelled hair at the spook before he spoke, “You’re up after JJ, Yuri. Are you ready?”

“Oh, y-yeah!” Yuri muttered, turning around to face the man, cheeks slightly flushed. He still wasn’t completely used to this new form of affection. “I just got caught up in the show. I didn’t know who won for the girls. I guess Mila didn’t.”

Victor screened his gaze over the ice, watching the figure begin to take her beginning pose, “Hm. I guess not. I don’t even know who that is.”

Yuri turned to begin walking back behind the curtain to the performers den, followed on heel by Victor. “Not sure either, the announcer said she was American though, so it’s not surprising. I don’t think I know any female American skaters from the U.S.”

“Mhm.”

_The only girl he told me about from his Detroit days was over the summer, and he shoved her off for trying to intrude in his heart. I wonder if he even noticed any of the other skaters besides his roommate? There was that composer, but..oh, well. It doesn’t matter now. _Victor let out a hefty sigh with an amused grin as he closed the curtain behind his oblivious skater.

Mooroka came over the speakers once more, “We’ve heard rumors that Thren’s going to be attempting to land a quad during her exhibition. If she’s successful, she will be history’s first female skater to land a quad. It appears she is in position so we will have to wait and see.”

Nat Exhibition skate: Atonement Nier Automata <https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=CKOM3lNFajE&feature=share>

A humph rolled from Victor’s voice in an indifferent wonder. He looked over to one of the screens showing the free performance as Yuri took a seat on the bench, begging to thread the laces in the black leather boot. The music rolled in subdued triumph as Victor watched the skater rise for a sit spin into a full biellman spin. He turned back to Yuri, checking once more to see if all of his qualms from earlier had been quelled.

_A girl managing something as physically taxing as a quad? Interesting. _

An indention marked next to Yuri’s spot on the black leather bench as Victor sat down, pulling his arm over Yuri’s shoulders and down his back over his navy Japan jacket to rest in the crest of his waist. The only portion of Yuri’s actual costume exposed were the sparkling blue lapels sneaking out from under the covering, but no one would understand the entirety of the replicate costume until he stepped out onto the ice. The black dress pants could belong to any ensemble.

Victor ran his thumb on the seam of Yuri’s coat on the side as he leaned to nose his partners ear affectionately, “It’s an exhibition, Yuri. Remember, we’re just telling a story. It just happens to be our story.”

“H-Hai.” Yuri nodded in agreement, finishing the last security check on the fastening of his skate as he knotted the laces together. He glanced upward, noticing the silver wisps procured into their show flair, but the grey slate trench coat was completely buttoned, leaving it only to appear that Victor was wearing his usual three-piece suit.

“When are you planning to put your skates on anyways?” he asked in a whisper, looking forward like he was watching the triple toe loop combo on the screen as the violins picked up speed of the song.

Victor shot him a look of daggers before realizing no one was paying attention to them, and softened his ocean catching eyes, “I’ll put them on in the arena during JJ’s performance.” He rose to his height and lifted Yuri up a bit. “If I put them on now, the whole place will know before you even put a skate on the ice. I want to do it where it’s dark.”

As they turned to walk closer to the side of the room to reenter the stadium area, Victors eyes widened in pause at the screen in front of them. Something in the sounds of violins had caught his ear and he looked up in the moment to see the masked girl on screen had thrown herself into a jump with such force…One. Two. Three. FOUR. Turns in the air--

SHWKSHHHHHHHH

The shrill screeches from the audience’s enthusiastic rage of an applause shook through the walls even outside the arena. “SHE DID IT! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN YOU ARE SEEING THE FIRST WOMAN TO LAND A QUAD TOE LOOP! GOLD MEDALIST NAT THREN JUST MADE HISTORY!!!!” Morooka boasted with an energy equal to the masses in roar.

“Well, I guess she did do it.”


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“What was that?” Yuri asked, calling out over the music in his earbuds. The yells and hollers still boomeranged through the athletes’ area even as the song died down and faded out. Blue eyes stayed transfixed on the screen as the performer pulled her hands to herself and bowed, like she was holding a blade at the end of a long and tumultuous battle.

He caught sight of Yuri pulling one of the buds out of his ear and swooped back over to hold him by his shoulder and draw him to the black curtain. “Huh? Oh…just thought I heard something familiar. It’s nothing.” Palms pressed into the small of Yuri’s back and nudged him forward, “Now go get us a seat. I need to grab my skates and I will be right there. This is going to be amazing!!!”

Blade guards thudded forward as Yuri caught his balance, the whoosh of the curtain being drawn back sending a chill to the back of his knees. He drew his arms over to crisscross and rub some friction of heat back into his cold body, the whites of his dark eyes only visible in the blackness of the stand area. The spotlight had guided the previous performer off and Yuri watched for a moment as she got her blade guards on, heaving heavy breaths as she came to her full height and started off to the door.

“Aren’t you going to watch the rest of the performances?” he overheard a woman’s voice said as the girl passed by his shoulder, trying to get through. She blended into the darkness with the only glow from her white bobbed wig giving any awareness of her presence.

“I don’t watch men’s performances.” Her voice said, eerily soft despite the rash undertone of the articulation on the word “men.” She crossed her arms and sighed reaching over to try to grab for the curtain without touching Yuri.

“Get out of the way, PIG!”

“Eh-eeek!” Yuri flailed, jumping up to the ends of his toe picks. The end of a blade guard knocked into his side, pushing him out of the way of the curtain. Before he had a chance to look back up, the girl and her coach, presumably, disappeared behind the veil. Blonde locks dangled over his shoulder as Yurio stood with a sneer.

“Oh, Hi Yurio. I didn’t know you were out here already.”

Yurio’s jacket zipped over to not reveal anything, much like Yuri and Victor had done to theirs. “What was with that shit at practice earlier? That’s the worst I’ve seen you do this entire final. It’s over. I won. Get over it.”

“Oh, yeah. Well, I was just-“

Yurio turned his hand up to stop him before he started, huffing a sigh before he exclaimed, “It doesn’t matter. I’m looking for Otabek. Have you seen him?”

“No. I haven’t seen anyone not in the exhibition since the final.”

_I wonder where Phichit is? Maybe I’ll see him at the banquet. Everybody’s probably going to be waiting for Part 2 of Kyushu born drunk Yuri. Man, I still can’t believe I did all that with Victor and can’t remember…_

“Fine, then.” Yurio’s red, white, and blue jacket swirled with his spin to go back through the black velvet drape.

“Davai, Yurio!” Yuri waved to him.

Green eyes flickered bright in the dark and Yurio raised his hand as he tilted his shoulder behind, only leaving the semblance of a mouth visible underneath the blonde locks confined. “You better not fuck this up, Katsudon.” He said flatly before returning to the outside room.

_I don’t think he’s just referring to the exhibition. _Yuri thought to himself, finally moving to find a seat on the bench outside. Flints of gold reflected the arena light as his fingers whirled in his hand, thumbing the smooth round ring for comfort. From the vantage of his seat, he caught JJ crossing his hand from forehead to heart and then shoulder to shoulder in preparation for his performance.

JJ Performance

Mirrors, J.T.

<https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=P3ypP24dR-A&feature=share>

“Tonight, the men’s Bronze Medalist, Canada’s J.J. Leroy, performs his original choreography to popular American song “Mirrors,” Newscaster Moorka announced on the overhead. Swift scratches rounded between the ruckus of applause and Canadian flags waved throughout the arena. JJ skated to the middle, arms outstretched out in the opening of his beginning pose.

_I was supposed to be skating this as a gold medalist…_

_._

Victor had collected his bag holding his skates and trudged over the room, trying to remain as inconspicuous and “certainly only a coach and not a performer” as possible. Cool wind washed up from under him as he entered the arena at the exact moment JJ choktawed on this side of the rink, flowing up spritzes of ice with his turn. Cool blue crystals scanned the area in search of where Yuri sat, widening in shock as a hand ran over the curve of his back.

“So, if he’s wearing that…I can only assume he said yes?” a deep sultry voice purred in the back of Victor’s ear, prickling his silver strands. He glanced over his shoulder to see a short cut blonde gesturing to the under a bench, where two cuts of bright blue shimmering fabric poked from underneath the seat.

Silver hair tousled back and forth as Victor shook his head in a hushed laugh, nodding. “Mhm.” 

An arm plopped over Victor’s shoulder as Chris grinned over to him, “See? No one is stupid enough to deny you in your Aria outfit. It made the entire world wet, not just the ice.”

Victor brought his finger to his lips, mulling over the night before the freeskate when Chris found him sulking outside the hotel. “I don’t think it was that…”

“Then what?”

A hapless grin wrapped over Victor’s pale cheeks as he looked over to the gelled black head a few feet ahead. “I think he just had to know it was okay to want everything he wanted all along. Yuri doesn’t know just how beautiful he is.”

Chris huffed a laugh and shook his head, “Ooof, you two are almost too much for even me, and I can handle _a lot_.”

A giggled of pleasure bubbled out between a heart shaped gap, and Yuri perked up to hear Victor’s laugh in search for him. “Mh, Chris. You never change!” he said, patting him on the back as he left to sit with his fiancé.

.

The melody of JJ’s perfunctory pop song came to a crescendo as the singer bolted out at the same time JJ Landed the Lutz.

_And now it's clear as this promise_

_That we're making two reflections into one_

_'Cause it's like you're my mirror_

_My mirror staring back at me, staring back at me_

JJ rounded into an S-shape, twisting himself low before coming out and lining for the next jump. He envisioned himself standing in the mirror, the shining pearls of a confidant smile widening his mouth as he stared back at the epitome of strength, valor, and victory: himself. However, the visage changed to a demur brown haired, blue-eyed man, almost unrecognizable save for the hands displayed in symbolic J’s, a bronze medal hanging off of his lower arm.

_I chose this song knowing I’d be staring with a gold medal in my hands. Not bronze. This is not the JJ I want anyone to see. JJ is first, not third… _

His right leg wobbled on the landing, but not enough to be noticeable. The crowd cheered enthusiastically for the Canadian’s return to peak performances.

“I love you, JJ!” he heard pierce through the crowd as he caught his fiance’s diamond.

_Yesterday is history_

_Tomorrow's a mystery_

_I can see you looking back at me_

_Keep your eyes on me_

_Baby, keep your eyes on me_

The step sequence bounced with energy as JJ began to reclaim his sole deemed crown. _That’s right. It’s a reflection. Not just what I see but what others see. My parents. My siblings. My precious girlfriend. My fans. They all see me with gold! I am the gold winner! Maybe not today, but at Four Continents…and then World’s. I hear Victor is coming back. I’ll show him…_

_I’ll show him who is KING!_

_._

Russia’s ice tiger checked over the foyer area once more time, his eyes small and panicking with heaps of rage reflecting in the mossy deep flecks of his usually crystalline bright jade eyes. Though, no one could tell with his sunglasses covering up the theatrical smoldering black shadow creating a cat eye around each lid he did after his run in with Yuri. He spotted Chris leaving the entrance to the arena, going over to the televisions to watch the rest of the performance.

_I’m not dealing with that asshole. Damnit, Otabek where the hell are you?_

Frail hands fumbled through the pockets of his hoodie until he retrieved his yellow cat striped phone from the deepest part. Yurio furiously tapped his password and groaned as his read through the last of the text messages exchanged between the two of them.

[Just got here. Yakov’s on my ass about the exhibition still. I’ll come find you]

[Okay.]

[Just meet me by the men’s lockers.]

[Where’d you go?]

[Otabek? I’m right here]

[Answer me, asshole. We’re about to start]

[I got caught up with something. Hold on.]

[K.]

[JFC, just tell me where you are!]

[I’ll come find you after the opening ceremonies.]

[K.]

[I’m back in the prep room. You here?]

[DAMNIT YOU LEFT ME WITH THE PIG AND SHITHEAD JJ!]

_I spent all night trying to track that jackass down. He said he’d meet me when I got here and then bailed. I didn’t get kicked out of every fucking club in Barcelona and call everyone just to get ditched the very next day. What’s with this guy? I can’t ever get a read on him. He better have a fucking great reason for this shit._

“Let’s go, Yuri.” A deep chasmic roll spoke from behind. Pearl teeth clenched as Yurio grit down and snarled, rounding about face to finally see Otabek with his usual stoic expression. Albeit, stoic with a sprinkling of irritation mixed with intrigue.

Something seemed _off, _but after the few days and night either of them had really seen each other, Yurio had no clue exactly what it could be. “What the hell?”

“You’ll be up after Yuri Katsuki. Are you ready or not?” Otabek asked impatiently, walking past him to go off into the prep area.

The deep brown of Otabek’s usual iris changed almost into a depth of black so hollow Yurio shook his head to keep from being drug further into the obsidian, all thought of anger diminishing to a sense of something like worry. He wouldn’t bring it up though, even if he wanted to. There was a wordless exchange in those eyes pleading with him not to ask.

_He spent all night helping me, so whatever it was doesn’t matter now. This show is who I have become. _

“I’m ready!” he replied, all thought of anger expelled for the moment. The guarded black metal blades clanked in small rhythms like handcuffs shackled together as Yurio followed behind Otabek. Opening the gap of the entrance just enough for both of them to slide through, the ridge of Otabek’s back leather jacket covered most of the light from intruding as JJ took his final pose.

With the arena area shrouded in the darkness. A rip vibrated over him as he undid his uniform red and blue Russian team jacket. Stepping a little into the light, fingers pinched the top of his frame, dipping the frames down as he stared out into the ice.

_Get a damn good look. Especially you, Katsudon!_

Yuri and Victor exchanged a silent parting, knowing in a few spins and jumps Victor would soon join his side. A large hand folded into Yuri’s right, Victor interweaving the fingers for a moment. A calm blanketed over Yuri like a cloud weightlessly carrying him to the middle of the rink. He didn’t need to worry or think about the performing his best in the show. In position, He was ready.

_All these years trying to catch up to Victor. I think my soul has always been waiting for this moment. _

“Thanks for helping, Chris,” Victor stated, placing his blade guards in his hand with a snap.

Chris clung tightly to the two guards joining to a slightly smaller pair already in his arms. The deep green eyes sparkled as he fluttered his lashes. “It’s not the first time I’ve been a part of your surprises. Remember Vienna?”

“Huh?” Victor’s blue eyes blinked, trying to remember an event seven years prior. Chris elbowed Victor’s ribs, and the flash of a very particular evening came to mind, the lids of his eyes opened so wide his sockets could have fallen from his eyeballs. “I don’t think Yakov ever forgave me for that banquet…”

_“_The men’s silver medalist, Japan’s Katsuki Yuri. His exhibition is the free program of his coach, who just announced his comeback, last year’s, “Stay Close and Never Let Me Go.”

_Sento una voce che piange lontano_  
_(I hear a voice crying far away)_  
_Anche tu, sei stato forse abbandonato?_  
_(Have you been abandoned as well?)_

The ends of silver threads flattened back into place with one sweep of Victor’s fingers through his hair. He wanted to keep two eyes on Yuri, treading a fault in his breathing as the skates rounded out for the quad lutz at the end of the stanza.

_Good! He landed it. _

_Orsù finisca presto questo calice di vino_  
(Come now, let's empty this glass of wine soon)  
e inizio a prepararmi  
(I'll start getting ready)

Yuri’s body twisted and pulled the words along with his body, arms going overhead as the light caught all the shimmering glitter of his magnetic blue sleeve.

Victor caught himself gasping in awe as Yuri once again vaulted and landed the quad flip, his quad flip. _Your soul sings the music your body creates, Yuri. I can never look away when you skate like this. The last quad is here. Perfect! I’m coming, my precious Yuri. My love. I’m coming back to the ice where we belong together. _

The end of Yuri’s skate clashed with the ice and he turned, lifting his arm up to welcome his coach back to the ice. An outstretched arm dazzling in sheer magenta came out before as the spotlight rounded over, revealing Victor’s two step skate to take Yuri by the hand and begin their Duetto for the world to see.

_Stammi vicino, non te ne andare_

_(Stay close to me, don't go)_

“Believe it or not! A surprise guest performance from Katsuki Yuri’s coach, Victor Nikiforov! It’s the master and apprentice version!” the announcer called, barely audible over the shrill shrieks booming from every part of the arena. “The crowd’s going wild with showing no signs of stopping!”

Yurio’s face disintegrated into a mist of angry black aura. _It’s not the fucking master and apprentice version! They’re together! It’s so gross! _

Black tresses flailed up and around the shaved underneath as Otabek lifted his hand over his chin in thought, “I guess our surprises overlapped…”

Nothing could prepare Yurio for witnessing the grace of which Victor lifted Yuri around. It only served to fuel his rage as his eyes bugged from behind his shades. “THOSE DAMN PIGS!”

_Ho paura di perderti_

_(I'm afraid of losing you)_

As Victor lifted Yuri once more, he couldn’t help but squeeze into the breath of a kiss before he reached up to full height in reminiscence of last night’s proposal. He doubted anyone but Victor noticed from the blip of a second it took, but he supposed he preferred it that way.

_I want this for myself for a while. I know when we get home, we will have more people to tell, and I don’t even know who knows in Russia. Ah well, tonight it’s just us and the ice. _He thought, reaching to begin the twists and kicks step sequence.

PHHHHCLICKTSH! A green hamster printed cover flashed white in the right moment, capturing the brief exchange of lips of the couple in their pair skate. “Oh my god, Yuri! I can’t believe you did that! I’ve gotta post this online!” Phichit squeaked, too enamored with his own social media to notice the rest of the performance.

_Le tue mani, le tue gambe,_

_(Your hands, your legs,)_

A warm rosy glow poured over Minako’s cheek, and for the first time in awhile it wasn’t due to alcohol, but the sheer bliss of watching her former pupil wade back and forth with his partner over the ice, arms led between them to guide the glide. They merged into one another’s space and out again, tapping their skates like the floor was wood and not ice.

_Victor Nikiforov. Damn, Yuri. You got him. I should ask him for those room numbers before he leaves. _

_le mie mani, le mie gambe,_

_(My hands, my legs,)_

_e i battiti del cuore_

_(The heartbeats)_

_si fondono tra loro_

_(Are fusing together)_

The arena hushed at the rise of the operatic chorus, watched Victor and Yuri become one, a magenta and blue fusion tangling in one another like a high-octane game of tag. Their shoulders brushed over one another as they melted into a singular blur before breaking off into a spin.

As the music heightened to its instrumental crescendo, Yurio’s fury rose past his 5’4 height in a red heap just in time to catch the man he told to retire a year ago hoisting Victor into the air. Silver strands floated above the air as Victor leveraged himself with his hand on either shoulder, beaming with adoration in his brilliant blue eyes.

Nothing made Yurio cringe more than to know nothing he could do alone would match the display before his eyes that he couldn’t burn out with a million matches. A wisp of air caught the nape of his neck as Otabek went to walk away, leaving him alone, again. Suddenly, brilliance struck gold and Yurio shrugged his shoulder down dramatically calling out, “Otabeck!!! My friend!!! Stop!!!”

“What?” He asked, his head cocked over his shoulder to stare down at the back of Yurio’s Russian jacket.

“For my final exhibition, you be in it, too!” He stated emphatically as he turned on heel and marched over into Otabek’s space.

“But, I’m done performing…”

“We’re gonna be even MORE intense than those two!” Yurio mused, grabbing the neck of Otabek’s dark grey t-shirt and pulling him forward until his breath could be felt on Otabek’s face, “You’re gonna watch me lay everyone flat out, right…?” For the first time of the night, Yurio finally felt he had the dark haired boy’s undivided attention at his green eyes stared with an intensity the obsidian hued had only seen once before. “So? Are you gonna do it? Or are you not gonna do it?”

An almost maniacal grin surfaced over Otabek’s usual austere appearance, he rose back up, releasing Yurio from the confines of his shirt. It endeared him to hear his turn of phrase used on him in such a turn of phrase. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Then there’s only one answer!”

Yurio shrugged out of his team jacket and flung it on the bench, listening as Otabeck whispered some basic instructions into his ear. He nodded a few times and stood back while Victor plopped down off the ice. _It’s my ice now, old man, _he thought as the image of Victor taking Yuri’s hand to help him off the ice made his stomach churn in memory of Rostelecom where he endured their disgusting display of Victor kissing Yuri’s skate. “Tsk,” he scoffed and turned to Otabeck, “Oi, let’s go!” he ordered as he sauntered in front of the wine and blue clad couple like a diva on the runway.

Brown and blue eyes froze in stunned silence as they beheld the petite skater and his one-man entourage. The sheen of Yurio’s tights appeared watery against the glow of the overhead light as he stomped a few more feet, the purple jacket and cross necklace swaying with him.

“Wow, Yurio!” Victor and Yuri gaped in unison as the skater and company stepped up onto the ice.

Once up on the ice, Yurio cocked a brow and flung he head over his shoulder, staring intimidatingly at the two, “Welcome to the madness,” he said, before skating away with Otabek on his heel.

“What’s welcome to the madness?” Victor asked, retrieving his water bottle from Chris and handing it to Yuri to drink.

Chris just looked out with a bewildered gaze, but deepened his voice to a sultry draw, “I’m not sure, those two were yelling something in the back. I think we’re about to see Yurio’s true eros, though.”

Yuri swept his eyes over the rink, watching Otabek take a place to lean at the end diagonal from where he currently stood. _I don’t think we’ve begun to see any of Yurio’s final forms. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

Steam rolled out from the locker room shower and fogged the exit from shower to changing area, settling in beaded dew on the cool metal lockers. A bare foot padded over the tile as Victor stepped through the gap between rooms, swathing a plush white towel over the very edge of his hips. “Yuri!!!!” Victor called excitedly, taking the few steps over to the sinks where his partner stood doing the last button of his white pleated dress shirt. A shadow of an arm lingered behind like a looming entity from a horror film before Victor lunged in a jump, throwing his arms around as he planted several kisses between words on Yuri’s cheek and forehead, “YOU….DID…SO…PERFECT… TONIGHT!”

“Th-Th-thank you.” He said, trying to dislodge Victor’s clinging muses to bring his blue tie up around his neck. “V-Victor!!! Hanase!”

Each kiss brought a brighter shady of ruby from Yuri’s cheek, and spurred Victor on to continue a few more excitable pecks before pulling away. “Here, let me do it for you.” He suggested, fingering over the deep blue of the tie as his weaved it through, creating the perfect loop to pull the tie in before straightening is flush against Yuri’s collar. Victor pulled his hands down on the belt of either side of Yuri’s hips, oogling his partner with a sweet and sultry gaze in one. “There. Perfect! I’m really glad I bought you this suit. As your coach, it’s my duty to make sure you look good for potential sponsors. And as your fiancé…you look really beautiful in it.”

“You liked it so much you bought _you_ one, too.” Yuri clarified, feeling the rise of heat under his eyes hearing Victor call something he wore beautiful.

Victor’s arm rose and turned to point onto his chest, “Well, if you look good, then I have to look good. It’s only fair.” He winked, “Besides, I like matching you!” He leaned in, planting a kiss atop the tip of Yuri’s nose, “We’re the best couple!”

_He’s really affectionate tonight. He hasn’t even had anything to drink tonight. Coming back onto the ice has certainly made him excitable. This is the Victor I always want to see. _

His thoughts lingered on the rim of Victor’s moving in to draw his hand over Yuri’s chin and dive into a kiss on the velvety supple lips. Yuri relaxed, the tingling returning and pressing with each turn of lips caressing and nudging over top one another. He brought his hand forward to barely risk a touch on Victor’s bare chest. He shuddered a gasp when he felt the dampness lingering on his fingerprints. Victor took this as a cue to press his hand to the small of Yuri’s back and draw him closer until he held him in an embrace, repositioning head to begin the kiss anew. Yuri’s palm lowered unknowingly as he returned the kisses the best he possibly could following Victor’s lead. Large perfectly manicured fingers motioned against Yuri’s cheek to coax Yuri to better positions as he swapped his bottom lip to lower under his partner’s while his hand threaded into the coarse black strands. Not thinking, Yuri’s fingers fell until they just swept the tip of an index over the deep tone of the V before the…and stopped abruptly pushing from Victor with a jolt.

The towel sprawled on the floor between the two, and Victor gave an innocent smirk, shrugging, “Whooops!”

“V-Victor! Are you going to put some clothes on?!?!”

“Sure.” He agreed, swaying his hips in a tease as he stepped over to the locker to get his garment back containing his suit. The garment hag lay over the crux of his arm as he went to start explaining, “I think we can do more pair skates. Neh, Yuri?”

_Why is he still buck naked?_

Victor noticed the far-off stare on Yuri’s face, his still roughly pink hued cheeks, and resolved to reluctantly get dressed. It was his first banquet as the coach of a Grand Prix Final medalist, so he would be remiss to his duty if he didn’t get caught up in thinking up new ways to get Yuri to blush. _I don’t think I will ever tire of seeing that look on his face. The schism between innocence and desire, never knowing which one to choose._

He finished buttoning his vest and moved to get the black jacket of his three-piece ensemble, watching Yuri pull his sleeves through the armholes of his. “Just think, only the banquet left and we’ll be going home.”

“Where is home exactly?”

“What…”

“You said we were going to talk this morning…Victor…You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Ah. Well, home will be St. Petersburg, naturally. I can’t keep Yakov as my coach and coach you without going back. It’ll be fun!”

_There’s always been people around us in Hasetsu. We’d actually be…alone, living together. _

.

.

.

.

Every person in the banquet hall washed a faint yellow in complexion against the bright overhead lights illuminating the room, Yurio most of all, with his already shoulder length toe head. He arrived in tow behind a proper dressed Yakov and Lilia, Mila clinging insistently on his shoulder.

“Otabek looked so good in your exhibition!” she fanned herself, resting her head on top of the straw hair and smushing herself over. “Did he tell you when he was gonna come down?”

“Get off me, Mila!” his grumble grew into a full cat growl as he flung his arm to shove her off by the ribs. The blue rim of her thigh length empire wait dress ruffled out against the toss and she quickly changed momentum to land on the tip of her stiletto, fluffing up her curls with her hands as her eyes expanded into a doll-like state. Yurio rolled his eyes at the display and huffed, “It was my exhibition! Otabek just helped me!”

Mila just sweetened her voice and took him by the arm, leading him to the back of the banquet behind the write dressed tables to where four tables stood. Each table was fashioned with a thick, silky, snowy tablecloth so that not even the wooden legs showed. A myriad of hor d’oeuvres set on top of each of the tables, and Mila reached out to grab a bit of shrimp, cucumber and curry cream cheese canapés and put it on a small plate seated next to her. She inspected the pink to green to white layers and shrugged, popping the entire thing into her mouth and speaking through chews, “I knowww it was your show. I just thought maybe I’d get him to dance with me.”

“Why the hell do you think I’d help you get him to dance with you, Baba? Didn’t you dance enough last night? Are you just always horny?” Yurio’s brash words made Mila recoil a little and for a second he could have sworn he saw her blush.

A stern voice pierced through the crowd, “Yuri Plisetsky!” Lilia’s scowl scrunched onto an even more sour pout than usual as she stood with her arms crossed over her black dress, the V-neck indenting in where she pressed her arms into the fold. “Don’t become ugly now that you’ve won!” she barked.

The light caught the sarcastic glint in his eyes as Yurio rolled them into his sockets and inhaled a deep stressful sigh. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied in earnest.

A stern faced Yakov stepped behind Lilia and tipped the brim of his hat up to set right on his scalp, “Mila, they’ll be wanting your picture with the women’s medalists. Better get over to the stage area.”

“R-right, Yakov.” She said sheepishly, stepping off through the crowd to find the stage area. Her green eyes perked when she saw Sara off the foot of the stage area, clad in a deep purple one strap short dress. She waved and called out, her voice fading in the distance, “Sara! Where’d you get those sho-“

Yurio went to sneak off on the right side of the tables into another cluster of people with cat like precision. All those hours of ballet stretched him until he could bend himself almost in half, and the corner of the wall wasn’t even a ninety-degree angle between the unknown man standing in the midst of the mingle and the edge. His leg was near bent around the man when he felt himself thrusted back to where he began.

“They’ll be calling you next, so don’t sneak off.” Yakov all but commanded.

Defeated, Yurio slouched down into himself and huffed, “Fine. I’ll just go up to the stage area and wait.” 

Out of any ideas on finding sanctuary from the masses until Otabek arrived, he pulled his crimson tie a little straighter and waded around the crowds of people standing in the thick of the various tables, whose seating was assigned by country. No one was really sitting yet, too busy catching up with friends and colleagues or schmoozing sponsors to bother finding a seat. Yurio kept his head down low until he found more of the polished oak floor and less socks and dress shoes. He brought his head up to normal just in time to catch a distinctive man with swooped black hair walking in swift taps over the dance floor area.

“Oi, Otabek!” Yurio shouted through the last hedge of the mass of people, extending his am in an exaggerated wave. Black eyes darted over in the vicinity where Yurio just yelled from, but Otabek didn’t retreat back from the door to the hall. He simply raised his arm in an acknowledging halt, and dipped through the heavy door.

_Seriously? He’s gonna blow me off, again? That’s it! _

Resigning to confront his friend head on, Yurio stomped his black suede shoes over the dance floor. “Oh, another dance-off?” He heard JJ’s wry voice tease from behind somewhere.

He didn’t bother to even satisfy the taunt with a turn, just one arm with one middle finger raised, “SHUT UP, ASSHOLE!” his voice blitzed through the air causing a few standing by to shudder in shock. It didn’t matter who heard him or if Lilia said anything about his behavior. He wanted to find out what was going on with Otabek’s game of hide and just hide again and pulled open the floor with a jerk, ready to burst.

“Ota-“ he started to scream blindly, caught off guard by seeing his friend’s usual demeaner changed as he observe him slouching near on the other side of hallway. His leg bent up against the beige wall as he leaned his head into the right palm, Otabek’s left rubbing his temples in exasperation.

_He’s on the phone? Does he even know I’m out here? _Yurio wondered, walking over quietly and leaning on the same wall a few feet away.

Otabek’s manly hollow voice sounded deeper and more demanding than Yurio had ever heard it, even the day he wished him davai rink side, “Ser'yezno, idi syuda…Oni zhdut!” he paused, listening to whoever was on the other end.

_Why is he speaking Russian? Everyone who speaks Russian is already here…except the pigs keeper. They haven’t even spoke more than a few words to each other. It better not be Victor… _

“Cyka Blyat!” Otabek smacked his forehead, spent. [She asked me to call you… No, I’m not going to go back in there without telling her something…Now, you’re just being stubborn…. Did you check it?...”] he pulled his phone a few feet from the air as an unidentifiable tirade sounded through the air. The only words Yurio managed to catch were Russian for “asshole”, “cunt”, and “Fuck off.” Before Otabek held the phone back up to his ear, smirking. [Do you feel better?]...[Okay.]…[The black one]…[No one will know]…[Yes]…[Yes]…[This isn’t like you]…[Don’t bring it and they won’t ask you to play.]

Yurio could sense the tension coming off of Otabek like a black vapor waving all around him. _Who the hell is that and why are they making him act like that? _

Otabek’s nostrils flared as he shifted, still listening on the line. [I don’t know what to tell you…You knew this was a possibility when you started]…[Nel, are you coming or am I going to have to get you?]…

The last line caught Yurio off guard and he perked up to see Otabek returned to an almost normal state as he heard whatever the reply was. 

[Good]…[Oh, you saw?]…[Yeah, I had a lot of fun with him.] His burly olive hand fell down in front of his face, reading the screen before turning it to black with the click on the side. Otabek pocketed the device in his dress pant pocket and kicked off the edge of the wall to re-enter the banquet hall.

Unbeknownst to either, JJ made his way in and out of the restroom during the conversation and strode out just in time to catch the last line of conversation. His pearled blue eyes caught their jaunting glow. “That the American girlfriend of yours?” he sneered sweetly; the width of his smile matched the unawareness of the gravity of his joke.

_Girlfriend? Otabek? _

As the cliché goes, if looks could kill, Otabek and Yurio both would find themselves in prison for life for trying to commit double homicide on the same person. The dark brown hues flashed black and resurfaced as Otabek gained his expressionless glare, and snubbed JJ with a huff the same way he had when Yurio called him an asshole the first time he laid eyes on him in five years, turning toe to catch the eyes of a soldier staring blankly at him. “I didn’t know you were out here.” He said, slightly startled.

The state of bewilderment painted on Yurio’s face told Otabek all he needed to know. Being the only other person in the hall who would have any understanding of what was said, he knew he couldn’t shirk off a response like he’d been doing the rest of the evening. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” Yurio admitted, “I came out after you ditched me, again.”

Otabek side-eyed the hallway, ensuring JJ was inside the room again before saying anything. Eyeing a lip-lock between JJ and his red lipped girlfriend, he refocused onto Yurio, “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what the hell is up?”

No words seemed to fit to actually explain everything in a way he could in the moment. Otabek’s eyes narrowed and he said the only thing he thought fitting, “It’s complicated.”

If Yurio could roll his eyes any further into the back of his head, he would have in that moment. “No shit.” He huffed and pushed off the wall, keeping his head down as he passed by Otabek.

“Yuri.” He said, catching Yurio’s attention enough to make him stop, but not enough to turn around. Otabek hesitated, but gave the most clarity he could offer, “I’m not with anyone.”

“Then what is it? You’ve been off all day.” Yurio stated as he finally lifted his head up again, his hands still firmly planted in his pant pockets. He wasn’t going to show any indication of relief on his face, if there was any or even and reason to feel that. He didn’t really know how to feel about it.

_I’m sure as hell not becoming another third wheel like with Katsudon and Victor…_

“It’s…just…really…” Otabek stopped and started, diverting from his usual direct tone and sounding slightly apprehensive, his eyes darting back and forth scanning the area.

“Complicated. Yeah, I get it. What is it? Some sort of family thing?” Yuri kicked his feet, remembering how his own issues surrounding that word.

_Agape to me means my Grandpa. But my other family…that’s…complicated. Damnit, I want to be mad, but I get it if that’s what happened. _

“Yeah, something like that.”

“I get it.” Yurio said with acceptance of the answer. “We better get back in before Yakov blows his top… Did I ever tell you I lived with him, and Lilia, this season?”

Feeling the change in atmosphere with the new subject, Otabek quirked a brow and scoffed, “No, how was that?” he asked, opening the door back up for the two of them to walk back in.

“They’re divorced. It was…weird.”

.

.

.

.

“Victoooorrr, we’re going to be late to the banquet!” Yuri whined, tugging on the wrist of Victor’s white dress shirt in an attempt to rush him a little more as they entered through the door of the hotel.

“The banquet started an hour ago, Yuri. We are late. Fashionably late. It’s good to stay on trend.” Victor gave a wink and used the wrist holding onto his shirt to pull Yuri into his chest, leaning down to steal a quick kiss.

Heat rising on his cheeks, Yuri pushed out of the lip-lock, albeit with slight reluctance, “Victor…anyone can see us!” he said, head weaving back forth to ensure their kiss went unnoticed.

Seeing the glow in his fiancé’s cheek stopped him from any further teasing. “Oh, right. You want to wait. I forgot. You know I can’t wait to show you off!”

“Victor…” Yuri started, but felt soft pale fingers threading into his own and giving a reassuring squeeze.

_I just want to keep Victor for my own before everyone else gets involved. Even if it’s just one more night. _

Seeing the relief in the chocolate brown eyes, Victor held his hand for a moment and then went to snake his arm around his shoulder instead. Everyone had seen Victor hold onto Yuri several times during the season, and it wasn’t unorthodox for a coach to be seen hugging their athlete’s shoulder.

_My other motivations might not be model coach behavior. OH, well._

The two rounded the hallway to where the entrance doors the banquet stood a few meters away. Yuri’s panel in his suit jacket vibrated suddenly, and he paused to check what was the reason. He reached into the hidden pocket in the breast of his jacket and pulled out his phone with the blue poodle case.

“Something wrong?” Victor asked, noticing the stop as his arm fell from Yuri’s shoulder.

“I’m not sure, I got a text from Minako-sensei. She’s always dramatic, though.” He answered, tilting his phone forward to invite Victor to read the conversation over his shoulder.

[YUUURRI! It’s all over the internet!!!]

[What is?]

_[…]_

_[huh?]_

[JPG _loading_]

Yuri kept his phone in his hand but decided to keep walking towards the banquet, anyways. The shoddy internet signal meant he would probably have to wait awhile for whatever Minako tried to send to load, anyways. “I wonder what she’s talking about…” Yuri trailed off in thought. Victor drew his phone out in curiosity as well, his mouth hidden behind the Aria costume phone case.

It took until he walked through the entrance of the banquet hall to figure out what the kerfuffle had been about. His eyes widened as a picture came into view, “Uh, Yuri…”

“Huh?” He asked, suddenly becoming aware of the murmurs and gasps coming in his direction from the throngs of people in the banquet hall. Hundreds of eyes turned from gawking at them back to their individual phones and back again. Yuri could no longer hear anything Victor might have said. A look of growing anxiousness rolled over his face as he started stepping to the side along the wall to go back towards the refreshment tables. He spotted Chris and Phichit back in the corner talking with their coaches, laughing over something. About the only familiar faces not glued to his own were Yurio and Otabek, who sat at one of the tables, and earbud in each ear attached to Yurio’s honeycomb cat-cased phone.

_What’s with everyone? I haven’t even drank anything. _

“Yuri, did you hear anything I said?” Victor asked, leaning until his lips were against the rim of Yuri’s ear. “They know.”

“Eh????” Yuri felt another ping in his pocket from his phone and retrieved it to find the uploaded image.

[Image: Yuri caught kissing Victor during their pair skate]

[Article screenshot: Victor Nikiforov’s Love Affair with Student]

[Article: Victor and Yuri Confirmed Kiss: It’s official!]

The poodles on Yuri’s blue phone case looked like they were dancing as his hands shook as he read the article titles and saw a very clear taken at rink side photo of Yuri’s lips interchanged with Victor’s in the motion of Victor pulling Yuri up during their pair skate. Suddenly, Victor’s words sank in.

_They knew._

_ Everyone knew._

A couple of minutes ticked by as Yuri stood unmoving. Victor rubbed his palm up and down Yuri’s back slowly, offering a bit of comfort to his panic ridden fiancé. The pupils in Yuri’s eyes hadn’t returned to normal since the realization struck him with enough force to crush a tower to dust, and he faced the tables, frozen in the rubble.

“How’d this happen?” Yuri finally managed to ask.

Victor looked down at his phone, thumbing through one of the hundreds of articles from fan sites and social media already “reporting” on the news. “It appears someone uploaded the photo on social media…”

The lids covering brown eyes opened until there was almost no skin left visible as Yuri whipped his head in the direction he had seen his social media crazed friend at earlier and stomped two feet over until he was behind the group, shouting accusatorily, “PHICHIT-KUN!”

Short trimmed black hair flew up with a snap as Phichit perked up at the call of his name, twisting around to face his red-faced friend, “Sorry! Sorry! I know! I couldn’t help it, though!” he apologized, turning his phone to show the photo to Yuri again, “It’s such a cute photo!”

Victor looked over Yuri’s shoulder and took in the photo for the first time since he saw it and cooed, “It really is amazing! I don’t know how you caught it. It was barely a second-“

Yuri still trembled in the moment, until he felt a nudge on his shoulder, a hand bringing a glass of champagne into his own. He looked up to see a mop of blonde hair and green eyes framed with long lashes glinting with celebration. “Chris-s…I’m not going to dri-“

Chris leaned into his ear, “Yuri, if I had Victor Nikiforov, I’d have already stripped him down in front of all these people, just to show everyone whose he is. Own it.” Yuri’s face changed into a cherry, heating Chris’s cheek with the glow. He stepped back, raising his glass in the air, “To the man who stole Victor Nikiforov from the world!” he cheered.

Victor reached for the second glass in Chris’s hand held out for him, “And brought him back to the ice!” he added, kissing the top of Yuri’s head.

“I’ll drink to that!” Chris’s coach lifted his glass.

“KANPAIIII!!!” they said in unison, and drank.

.

Yurio rolled his eyes at the sound of glasses raised and clinking over in the group Victor and Yuri joined into. “You’d think Victor had won gold with all the praise he is getting.”

“He didn’t. You did. Don’t pay him any attention. I don’t unless I have to.” Otabek offered, changing the song on the playlist to something with a harder beat, hoping to drown out the loud jokes between Chris and Victor in the background.

“Try sharing a rink with him for most of your life.” Yurio sulked, lowering his head down on the table. “It’s like blacking out the sun with your hand.”

Otabek shook his head dismissively, watching as Mila emerged from the sea of onlookers who were with the officials taking photos. “Not everyone is Victor’s fan.”

No answer could be formed before Yurio gasped a disgusted huff as Mila once again draped over his head before sliding off and sitting in the chair next to him. “Phew! I’m glad that’s over!”

Yurio side-eyed her, “What? It was just pictures.”

“Yeah…but…” Mila explained, tossing her red curls out as she glanced over, “…nevermind. Oh, hi Otabek! I can keep you company while Yuri gets his pictures taken!”

“Okay?” Otabek shrugged, putting the other earbud in his ear. Yurio rose up, sticking his tongue out at Mila as he moved to the stage area.

.

.

.

.

Cameras snapped a multitude of shots of Yurio, Yuri, and JJ standing arm over shoulder of each other. Yurio kept a civil straight face for most of it, finding a smile a couple of photos towards the end when he was effectively able to “accidentally” poke JJ in the ribs. Yuri’s sweet smile warmed Victor’s heart as he watched from the crowd.

“Vitya...” Yakov started, standing should to shoulder with Victor, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the competition winners, “That’s not your student.” He accused. 

“Sure, he is.”

“That’s not _just _your student.” He corrected.

“No, I suppose that’s true.” Victor said, not looking over. He knew that what Yakov was saying wasn’t meant to draw attention to them, given how he wasn’t screaming at him.

“You won’t be able to keep this out of the news. No one will.”

“I don’t intend to.”

“I remember what happened the last time you said that.” Yakov stated flatly, “Don’t give ammunition to those you know have pointed guns.”

Shaken for thoughts to say with the memories drudged up on the shovel of Yakov’s words, Victor’s eyes blinked a few times before they returned to their blue jovial faded tones. He giggled a laugh and pat Yakov on the back, “Oh, Yakov! You should drink some champagne. Your Yuri won gold and my Yuri won silver! We should celebrate!”

His Yuri stepped off the platform and ran over to him, jumping to wrap his arms around Victor’s side, “Viicctor! Did you see all the photos taken? They kept asking who my coach was going to be now and I said yooouuu!” he spoke with the cusp of a drunken slur on his lips. They only drank a couple of glasses before the photos, so Victor knew he wasn’t anywhere near Sochi levels of wasted, just enough to feel a bit loose.

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS!” Yakov’s switch had turned from soft-spoken concern to tyrannical maniac in a flash as he head Yuri’s words. “WHAT ABOUT NATIONALS?”

“I’m going to Nationals, Yakov!” Victor replied, still grinning innocently.

“WHAT ABOUT HIS NATIONALS?” Yakov yelled, catching the entire banquet halls attention by the blast of air as he gestured to Yuri, who was still hugging onto Victor’s arm.

Brown eyes looked at the irate coach’s eyes almost bulging out of his head in anger and sank a bit. He withdrew his arms and went over to the table that housed the champagne, downing another glass in one gulp.

“Of course, I’m going to his nationals. I’d be a terrible coach not to.”

“THEY’RE AT THE SAME TIME. IDIOT.”

Yuri downed another glass.

“Oh. I forgot.”

“YOU FORGOT? HOW CAN YOU BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE AS A COACH STILL?”

Yuri stumbled a bit, grabbed another glass.

“I guess I will skip nationals, then.” Victor said, shrugging.

“THEN YOU CAN’T GO TO EUROS, EITHER! HAVE YOU EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THIS?”

One more glass drank by Yuri, followed quickly by another.

“Neh, neh!” Victor pouted. “I have been thinking. I’ll make my comeback at Worlds, and make my full season comeback next season.”

Yuri drowned in three more glasses, beginning to hiccup with each gulp. He loosened his tie until it was away enough he could start unbuttoning his shirt to feel the cold air against his warming body.

Yakov straightened his hat and brushed his suit down, looking to Lilia, “We’re leaving. I’m too old for this, Vitya. You’ll waste your entire career dating that boy.”

“I’m not dating him. I’m marrying him.”

Yakov held up his right hand, the discoloration where his wedding band used to be still evident on his rough aging fingers. “Those gold bands always look like they’re forever, until they’re not. This thing started at last year’s banquet, it should have ended at this one, Victor.”

Grey lashes touched top to bottom as Victor blinked a few times, stunned for a moment at the outburst as he watched Yakov exit with Lilia, calling something over his shoulder to Yurio before parting. _I knew Yakov might be a little upset, but I didn’t think he’d be so mad._

“Neh, Yuri…don’t worry about what Yakov said. He’ll come ar-“ he turned his eyes to see that Yuri’s arms had been replaced by Chris’s in the midst of the argument. “Chris, where’s Yuri?”

Green eyes batted and Chris gestured over, “Come. You’re missing it.”

“VIIIICTORUUUU” a distinct Kyshu dialect drunken accent sounded behind Victor as Chris spun him around and shoved him on the dance floor. An opened shirt, pant less, shoeless Yuri twirled in the middle of the dancefloor, his tie fashioned on top of his head like a crown. He used the champagne bottle in his hand like a guiding hand, turning and lifting his leg with it.

His hand came over his chin as Victor viewed the display in front of him, grinning from ear to ear. “How much have you had to drink?” he asked coming up behind him to glide with him in his pose.

The haze in Yuri’s eyes only made his brown irises glimmer more as they looked up at Victor, “T-Two…eeechup….Tw….eecup…twelve.” Yuri squeaked between hiccupped breaths.

Victor reached up to grab the hand with the bottle on it, leading Yuri in a two step pose before dipping him down. Black hair grazed the floor before Victor snapped him back up, bringing him into a deep but quick kiss. Lips parted enough to nudge either on top and in, holding as Victor got enough grip to take the bottle out of Yuri’s clutches. He released their lips in the same moment he took the champagne. Staring straight into Yuri’s eyes, he edged the rim of the bottle before tipping it to take a drink. “I guess I’ll have to catch up then…"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The night fizzed and fizzled, filtered through bubbles of champagne toasted eyes. Once amused and awkwardly watching the shenanigans unfold throughout the night, most of the onlookers left to find rest or catch flights, leaving only a few handfuls of people as the party imbibing sobered to a sleepy, giddy low vibe. That is, save for one still very inebriated, enthusiastic men’s silver medalist.

“B-Bic-Bictoruuu!!!” Yuri’s drunk drawl hollered out again for the innumerable time this night.

Feeling the heavy lids of slumber approaching, Victor sat on a banquet chair near the edge of the stage, resting his elbow on the table to the left on him. Unlike the restaurant in China, most of his clothes remained on. Sometime in the night he shed his suit coat and Yuri had unbuttoned his shirt during one of their dances, turning his purple tie into a bandana atop his silver head. His blue eyes shimmered the same ombre light to dark blue the first time Yuri flung his arms over him and asked him to be his coach, much as the same happened in the very moment as Yuri leapt over his lap and straddled on top of Victor.

“Yes?” Victor asked, smiling adoringly up as Yuri pushed up out of his embrace. Drunken half-mast eyes stared down as large defined arms wrapped around Yuri’s waist, Victor holding him in place.

Yuri’s back rubbed against Victor’s hand as he wiggled and rolled side to side, listening to the sounds of a tune playing only in his mind. Lids closed over brown eyes as Yuri hummed a few sounds between pursed lips as Victor beheld the sight with amusement, giggling quietly.

“If I win this dance off..” Yuri asked in a mostly slurred tone, eyes glittering gold in the mahogany brown hues. “will you marry me?”

The blue tie knotted on the side of Yuri’s head started to fall, and Victor moved one hand from the barely on button up still clinging by mostly sweat to Yuri’s back, reaching to readjust the tie back into place. “You already won, and I already said yes.” Victor mused, cupping Yuri’s chin and stroking his cheek with his thumb.

“Oh.” Yuri squeaked as a hiccup more than an actual word. “…but?” he began to whine, sliding his thighs up Victor’s dark dress pants, trying to find the words to coax Victor back up with him. Sometime during the night Yuri had re-found and put back on his own pants and shoes, but Victor couldn’t remember exactly when in the drunken dancing that occurred.

“Yes, Yuri?” his voice dripped in sweetness, feeling the subtle rub roll over his thighs once more.

_Is Yuri even aware what he’s doing?_

“Then, if I win this dance off…” The red glint in Yuri’s eyes overwhelmed most of the brown until they burned a cherry ash of passion. He pushed from his toes to force the glide up on Victor’s legs until he felt the sticky sweat clinging to Victor’s opened shirt chest on his own. Lips touched against Victor’s ear as he spoke, the Eros in his voice running unfiltered in his intoxicated burst of confidence, “I want to do the things that excite you, Victor.”

The normally light blue eyes flashed the color of a night sky; Victor let out a gasp as he heard the words. The black ends of Yuri’s hair tickled Victor’s cheek as Yuri lifted his head up enough to nose the tip of a silver brow through the silver strands. One more thrust up Victor’s thigh, and he knew with the stiffness confined under the zipper of Yuri’s pants that Yuri’s words weren’t false.

_Oh! Wow!..._Victor thought, feeling the excitement tremble at the idea that Yuri’s eros was running wild. Everything in him craved to fulfill Yuri’s request right in that moment. He was on the precipice of being just drunk enough to not care, but sobriety smacked the burden of remembering who his fiancé was upon him -- still modest, still Yuri. _Does he know he’s like this? He’s so inexperienced he probably doesn’t. There’s no way he’d be like this in public. He just freaked out at a photo of us kissing. _

Yuri rolled his hips over Victor’s feverishly as he whined, gasping a shallow breath, “Nn, Victoooorr…”

_If anyone gets a picture of him like this… No, I’ve got to do something. _

Trying to shelter his fiancé’s predicament from exposure to unsolicited eyes, most importantly Phichit’s ever flashing camera, he resolved to do the only thing his tired and still slightly intoxicated mind could think of. Victor grabbed under Yuri’s thigh and hoisted him up to keep him held against himself as he stood up. He reached one hand to the chair next to him to grab the suit jackets and Yuri’s shoes, revolving to carry his drunken but slouching into his shoulder fiancé to the exit.

Waving Yuri’s dress shoes in the air, Victor called out, “We’re going!”

Chris stood only in his purple bikini bottoms with his hand on his hips and bellowed a hearty laugh, “Have a fun workout!”

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The click of a latch turned, and Victor’s nudged his black dress shoe through the door, using Yuri’s back to force it the rest of the way open. Lips rested on the nape of Victor’s neck, kissing the spot over and over again as Yuri perched his head on the shoulder, too tired to lift it up as the alcohol transitioned from the electrifying effect to an encroaching comatose state. His mind was still on the idea Chris put in his mind earlier in the night before he even began to drink.

_ Yuri, if I had Victor Nikiforov, I’d have already stripped him down in front of all these people, just to show everyone whose he his._

The chill of the door sent a shiver up Yuri’s spine as Victor backed him up against it, still holding his legs at his waist, causing him to twitch. Wasting no more time, Victor drew Yuri’s lips into his own, heaving a gasp between breaths. Black hair poked the top of his scalp as Yuri moved his fingers to press on Victor’s neck, holding him as close as possible. No words needed to be vocalized as the alcohol circulating in each of their bodies spoke enough for either of them. They wanted each other.

An explosion of tingling lips intertwining over one another popped like fireworks between each turn of Victor’s head to make the kisses new. He tilted and bents, repositioned the draw, holding, and then pulling out enough to release a gasp before diving down further into the reaches of Yuri’s shiny, thin pout. Tremors ran from the top of Victor’s neck down his spine as he felt the fingertips trail down his neck and collar bone. Yuri’s willing messy returns of lips were a sensation Victor had never felt, and he wanted to savor every moment of it, everywhere he possibly could. He placed Yuri’s feet back on the floor with barely a thud as the soles touched the wooden floor, moving in to cup his face with both hands to guide Yuri around to step backwards towards the bed, keeping the kisses as he backed them through the hallway.

Cool hands slid under Yuri’s unbuttoned shirt and dragged the garment off his shoulders, allowing it to land behind him on the floor. Victor pressed into the kiss, leaving his lips dipped into the small opening of their mouths pressed together as he wrapped his arm under Yuri to lay him back onto the edge of the bed. Yuri bent over the frame, falling onto the blush mattress top, his hair splayed over the dark blanket. He watched eagerly as Victor slid one knee in the gap between Yuri’s parted thighs, looming over him to bring his lips back to Yuri’s own. Victor rested his elbows on either side of Yuri’s head, weaving his fingers through the coarse black threads as he brought his partners head up to deepen the kiss and hold it for a few moments, to begin his lips’ journey from Yuri’s mouth to his neck, planting pale shiny experienced lips every inch down until he heard a gasped moan release from behind cliched teeth.

“Nhnn.” Yuri’s voice echoed a bit before he even realized it had happened. He pulled his hand quickly to cover his mouth, the sheer shock of that sound coming from him heating his already red cheeks.

Victor smirked when he heard it. _I think I might have found a spot. _He lifted his gaze to look in the eyes of his partner, the thrill of hearing his sound sparkling in his hungry blue eyes. The brown red hues looked back at him, and he saw it. Behind the half-lidded reds were glints of innocence still lingering in the mix of champagne fueled eros.

_The first time. His first time. _

Guilt sobered Victor to a completely cerebral state. He suddenly became acutely aware of everything hidden in Yuri’s red flushed stare, feeling the jackhammer of heartbeats thumping under Yuri’s chest. Every impulse washed cleanly away as he backed up and rose to his full height.

_He’s completely drunk. Of course, he’s willing, but he would never remember any of it in the morning. Even if he did, would sober Yuri be able to handle it yet? Yuri gets nervous so easily. Last night he was afraid to sleep in the same bed as me. We don’t even have anything here for that anyways. _

Yuri’s drunken eyes tried to focus Victor’s frame into one person instead of three. His brow crinkled in worry as he saw Victor breathe a sigh, “Did I…do something wrong?” he asked, panting for air, sitting up on elbows to try to get a better look. Tears started to form at the edges of Yuri’s eyes, feeling like he let down Victor in some way. 

Victor led his gaze down over the brown eyes, now filling with anxiety instead of booze. He shook his head, pulling his belt from the loops and letting his pants fall to floor. “No, I did.”

The covers crinkled as Victor threw them back to climb in. He skooched over on his knees and sat nearest to the other twin bed. “Come on, Yuri. We need to sleep.”

“But…You didn’t…You didn’t do anything wrong! I…wanted…” Yuri managed to choke through the tears that dropped from his cheek to his shoulder. The burst of cries came swift, without warning. Nothing seemed to make sense in the swirling concoction of exhaustion, alcohol, and Victor’s sudden departure from the previous moment’s activities. The memory of Victor’s silver hair swaying over his eye as he looked down overtop him played on repeat, sending flutters in his chest that still beat furiously. A hand reached out and clapped onto his fingers, helping Yuri to turn over and crawl on his knees to Victor’s side, squeezing his hand reassuringly as he attempted a smile.

Victor helped to get Yuri’s dress pants off him in silence, unsure of what to say to make anything better. The end of the dress pants roped around his ankles, and Yuri stumbled over himself until his cheek collided with Victor’s chest. He breathed in a heavy groan that stopped the tears for a moment. The rhythms of Victor’s heartbeats lulling him to sleep.

Feeling the deep inhales and exhales of Yuri succumbing to slumber, Victor snaked his arm under Yuri’s frame and pulled him over. He reached down and clipped the nose of Yuri’s blue rimmed glasses to take them off, folding them and placing them on the other bed. His stroked Yuri’s hair, momentarily taking his hand from over Yuri to the edge of the bed where he discarded his phone earlier. Picking it up, he thumbed over to a new folder: GPF Banquet Barcelona.

The faint blue glow of the phone screen illuminated Victor’s white face, reflecting against the blue eyes staring at each frame with the look of love: agape.

_Yuri, I’m going to have to be more careful with your glass heart. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

Sun cascaded through the window, bursting in its brilliance of the mid-morning hour with enough brightness to light the entirety of the Barcelona hotel room. Yuri’s dark hair squashed into the pillow as he rolled to face the window in his sleep, wincing as the sunlight smacked him out of the trenches of his comfort. Trying to block, he reached his hand up to shield his eyes, but the attempt proved futile. His brain drummed a deep thrash of pain in rolling beats, reminding him just how much he had imbibed the night before.

“Ughhhhhuhhhhhhsh!” he whined, filling the room with his curse to the morning sun. He pushed up on his elbow and chanced to look around.

_We’re still in the hotel room. Is it the next morning? _He thought, assessing the corners of the hotel room as he turned to sit up, finding his glasses on the next bed and quickly putting them on before the deluge of banging in his brain could get any worse. _Nothing seems out of place. Where’d Victor go? _He shook his head too fast, using his hand to hold it in place now that the room spun in circles around him.

The whoosh of running water pouring from the spicket sounded in the short distance, ending on the faint squeak of a spicket turning until the trickle of the water hitting the sink slowed to a stop. Taps on the bathroom tile thudded in Yuri’s brain with the sound of a banging doldrum, though he assumed it felt much louder than it actually was.

Victor emerged from the bathroom fully clothed for the day’s departure. The off-white sweater hugged at the end of his black form fitting jeans as he walked towards the main room. Finding Yuri’s struggle with his pained, hunched over regret the day after drinking oddly endearing, he smiled and waved his hand up. “Ohaiyo, Yuri!” he said gleefully. “How are you feeling?”

A loud groan filled the quiet room, “Uuuuugh, I feel awful!” Yuri threw his head into his hand, “Everything hurts!”

“Well, you did do a lot of dancing…” Victor’s voice trailed off as he walked back into the bathroom. Yuri heard the sound of water and the clanking of some sort of plastic bottle spilling out like wooden blocks on a concrete floor, everything in his mind exaggerated the effects in unison with the throbbing hangover.

“Here.” Victor’s voice came, sounding suddenly too close from where he saw him a minute ago. Yuri jerked up and flailed, letting out a spooked huff as his ghost almost left his body behind. Seeing the cup of water and two white pills extended in Victor’s hands, he pulled himself together and took them sheepishly.

“How long have you been up? Yuri asked, throwing back the pills and taking a sip of water. “What time is it?”

“Long enough to pack up our things and get ready. It’s about ten. I went down to the desk and got those. I figured you’d have a migraine.” Victor said.

“Oh…yeah.” Yuri agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Th-thank you.”

Knees indented the mattress as Victor leaned forward to steal a quick kiss from Yuri’s lips, smacking them softly before rising back to his full height. “Of course.” He said, “Is that what you’re wearing today?”

“Hah?” Yuri gaped, finally feeling the chill of the air that left hackles on his skin.

Victor turned his arm on his elbow, pointing to himself, “I wouldn’t mind..but…” he mused, deepened his voice to a sultry whirl.

Yuri pressed his hands to his chest, feeling nothing but toned skin, “AHHH!” he shrieked. His head buried beneath the blankets, with only the black tips sticking out, as he pulled the coverers to look underneath. Finding his black thigh hugging boxers still on, he heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

_I don’t remember anything from last night. _

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Yuri’s hand threaded into Victor’s as they crossed the threshold of the Barcelona Princess Hotel entrance that separated the room from the breakfast hall. Black hair ruffled against Victor’s slate blue coat as Yuri nuzzled his head against Victor’s shoulder. Blue eyes looked down adoringly as Victor kissed the top of the head under those strands of black hair. “We should probably eat before we leave.” He spoke into the soft tresses, earning him a reluctant nod. “You can sleep on the plane. It’s a long flight back to Hasetsu.”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll check us out and leave our bags at the desk and get us something from the buffet. Grab us a seat?”

“Mmmmhmmmm.” Yuri groaned, reluctantly lifting his head off of Victor’s shoulder and unclamping his hand. Trying to avoid the too bright overhead lights, he held his head low nearly resting his chin on his neck. His brown eyes peaked under dark black lashes as they moved back and forth, trying to remain inconspicuous.

“Yuri! S̄wạs̄dīkrap!” a giddy sweet voice called. Yuri lifted his head just enough to spot Phichit at a table a few feet away.

“Oh, Phichit-kun. Swasdikrap!” Yuri waved back as cheerful as he could muster with his head still in a hungover vice grip. He winced a little and put his hand on his head to try to rub out the pain.

Phichit waved him over, “Come sit with us! Celestino and Joseph are getting ready to leave.” he exclaimed, his black eyes shining all too happily for this hour in the morning. Yuri gave a gentle nod, careful not to wobble his neck too far and lose his balance, and started slinking over grudgingly.

He recognized the two-toned blonde as Chris, who sat on the opposite end of the table with his coach, saying something indistinguishable as he nursed a cup of coffee in his hand. Chris nodded and laughed, pointing in Yuri’s direction as Joseph rose from his chair, joining Celestino on the opposite side. Both of the coaches side-eyed Yuri and shook their heads in knowing judgment. Celestino stepped forward and stuck his hand out to Yuri to shake it, “Congratulations on silver, Yuri. I’m glad to see you medal.”

Yuri took his hand in the gesture, shaking as firmly as he could. “Th-Thank you.”

Celestino’s full ponytail bounced as he retracted his hand back, putting it in his puffy black coat pocket, “Victor may not have been so bad for you after all. Whatever he did to you worked.”

The ridges of Yuri’s blue rimmed glasses burned with heat from the redness fuming from the tip of his nose to back behind his ears. Chris held up his hand to interject the answer, but his coach lowered it back down. Yuri rubbed the back of his neck and looked down and away, “Ye-yeah.” Was all he could think to say.

Joseph and Celestine just quirked a brow at each other and shook their heads once again, sighing. They each told their athletes when to meet them for their flights and retreated back out into the main lobby, exchanging a few words as they saw Victor enter the lobby and pass them on the way to the buffet table.

Chris took a sip from his coffee, watching Yuri slide into the chair next the Phichit, noticing his disheveled appearance of khaki’s and a grey sweatshirt. He gave a wry smile, “You look wrecked. Late night?” he asked pointedly.

Yuri just sighed and laid his head into his folded hands on the table, “I don’t remember.”

“Oh, I have pictures this time!” Phichit perked up, fumbling in his coat pocket to shovel out his phone.

“Phichit-kun!” Yuri snapped into the table.

The green case with a hamster was already in his hands as Phichit fingered crazily to find his social media app, “What?” he asked earnestly, wondering why by now Yuri would have thought any differently of him.

Victor rounded the tables with two plates in hand and arm while holding two mugs of coffee in the other. He bent down to lower Yuri’s cup and plate next to his folded arms, planting a kiss on top of his head before he joined Chris on the opposite side. “Ohh,” he mused excitedly, “What’d I miss?”

“Phichit was just about to remind Yuri about everything he forgot last night.” Chris explained, stealing a strawberry off of Victor’s plate and popping it into his mouth whole with a wink.

“Really? I have pictures, too!” Victor said, much to Yuri’s chagrin.

Giving up any hope of living in the dark over the previous night, Yuri let out a long extended sigh and raised his head enough to rest it on his forearm, reaching his fingers to grab at a piece of melon closest to him, “Just how much of this is online already?”

Phichit shrunk a little away and replied sheepishly, “Allll….of…it….”

Yuri smacked his head on his forearm and instantly regretted it, flinching out in pain. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?” Victor asked

Flashes of memory circulated through Yuri’s mind, some of it hid behind a black curtain. He took a moment to sort out his thoughts and found the last moment he really remembered, “Yurio, JJ, and I were getting our pictures taken….”

Victor pouted and sighed, lowering his coffee down to the table, “Oh, you really don’t remember.”

Yuri rushed through his mind trying to cut the red tape holding back the curtain, to no avail, “What? What happened?”

“Just another disgusting display by a couple of pigs!” an angsty voice growled behind Yuri. Victor glanced up to see Yurio standing, plate in hand, with Otabek next to him. 

_The Hero of Kazakhstan found the Russian Fairy and never left his side. _

Yuri folded his hands over his eyes, “Oh, hi Yurio, Otabek…I didn’t see you there.” He said as the pair pulled up chairs at the end, not missing the chance to fill Yuri in on his idiocy. Yuri just spoke his thoughts aloud, not really to anyone in particular, “So, another dance-off…at least there wasn’t a pole this time.”

“There wasn’t?” Chris questioned.

“Was there?” Yuri squeaked, putting his hands over his mouth.

Chris rested his hands-on chin and spoke directly, “Yuri, you got drunk and asked Victor to marry you about a dozen times last night, dancing with anyone who got in your way. I, of course, did mine as a pole dance. I always have one on hand.”

“Ahahah.” Victor cackled, “That’s just like you!”

“What?!? I asked Victor to marry me?” He shook his head, “ Why would I say that?” He said remembering that everyone seated had seen the pictures and knew anyways.

“Because you’re an idiot!” Yurio spat, “and dragged me into another stupid dance off. This time between you and Victor. It was gross.”

Otabek just side-eyed him skeptically, quirking a brow “You made me dance with you.”

A light flush drew across Yurio’s cheeks as his eyes widened. He threw his arms up in frustration and gestured outwardly. “Well, I sure as hell wasn’t going to lose by forfeit to those asshats!” Otabek’s leather jacket crinkled as he reached up to grab a sip of his orange juice, shrugging and shaking his head as he lifted his cup to drink, remaining silent.

Some of the images from the night before resurfaced in his mind like blurry stills, almost coming to focus and then out again. Yuri picked through another couple of fruits on his plate and sighed, “Just let me see the photos.” _If the rest of the world knows, I might as well._

Yuri immersed himself in Phichit’s slideshow of perfectly cropped and rendered photos and selfies from the evening. Victor watched quietly, picking a little at his plate as he saw his fiance’s face glow and eyes widened at every next event. Everything replayed crystal clear in his mind, reeling forward to the event that did not go anywhere near planned. _Maybe I shouldn’t tell him. If he doesn’t remember, it might make him shut down more to know. It’s not like anything happened, anyways. Damn, I wonder if Chris has any experience with this? _

Almost like he could read Victor’s mind, Chris leaned forward with a hand covering his mouth, whispering in a half joking tone, “So, how long do you plan to keep him innocent for?”

Victor’s blue eyes shrunk in the shock and he turned his head to lean to just where Chris could hear, “What-how’d you…”

Chris just shook his head and nodded over, “He’s sitting down on the chairjust fine.”

A half of a laugh escaped from Victor’s laugh, but he quirked a brow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously? It’s pretty obvious. Yuri can act however he wants on the ice, but off it? I mean, I was there the day before the short program, remember?”

“Mhhm.”

_The paper lidded cup of coffee had turned cold and hour ago, but Victor still held it between his hands, staring out at the people walking by. He sat against a wooden bench, rolling the cup back forth as the wind brushed against his black coat. An emptiness filled the usually joyful blue eyes, his insides as numb to the cold as the rest of his body. He just kept looking from the top of the cup out into the road and back again._

_Two toned blonde hair bounced as Chris sauntered down the street to the front of the hotel, noticing Victor as he passed by. “Hiiiii, Coach Victor!!!”_

_Victor glanced up with the same tired eyes he wore when he greeted announcer Lambiel on the day of the freeskate, smiling and waving, “Hi, Chris! I guess practice is over?”_

_Chris joined Victor on the bench and looked over, “Uhoh, what’s wrong? We missed you on the ice. At least I get to see you when you show up with Yuri, and I can pretend I’m competing against you to get serious.”_

_“You always say that.” Victor said, huffing a laugh, though it carried a sullen voice. _

_“Mhm. It’s the final, though. Why aren’t you two there, Coach Victor…?”_

_Victor thumbed at his ring and sighed, “Might not be coach for long…”_

_“What? Why? I thought you were engaged.”_

_“Me too.” Victor said angrily. “Yuri got the ring. I got his. He said it was a thank you and for good luck, but couldn’t finish with what he was saying. I don’t know if he was even thinking that…”_

_“Oh.”_

_“Now he says he wants to retire.”_

_“Whoa, really? Why?”_

_“So, he can leave and I can come back.” Victor’s voice turned to bitterness, and he looked away before any tears could catch him off guard again. “I don’t understand.”_

_“Neither of you asked the other to actually marry you?”_

_“No.”_

_“You kissed in China? I thought that was-“_

_“We went home and went right back to being student and coach.”_

_ “Have either of you said you loved the other?”_

_“Yuri tells me he loves me every time he skates.”_

_Chris leaned into nudge Victor’s shoulder, “Victor, you two have been playing the seduction game for an entire season. And, as much I love good foreplay, you really have to get to the point. You have to tell him off the ice.”_

_Victor looked up, the haze of the event the night before leaving him completely dumbfounded, “Wha-“ he perked his head up, an idea emerging in the front of his eyes, “Oh!” _

The memory made Victor smile, it became the light at the end of the tunnel no matter what Yuri decided. He looked back over to Chris who was leaning back into him, “You didn’t think…last night?”

“No, he was too drunk. He didn’t end up in your room after last year’s banquet.” Chris whispered back. “It’s not like it would have been the first person to end up in your room… or you ending up in theirs. But, you waited.”

“Mhm,” he replied, remembering a younger, more flighty person. Even if those times weren’t as many as Chris made it seem, he wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t know he was…at last year’s banquet.”

“Exactly. And now you do. So, I ask again. How long do you plan to keep him innocent?”

“Until it doesn’t take him being drunk to be ready.”

“ I’m curious how his Eros performance will be once he loses his….virtue. He might be as exciting to fight as you at Worlds.” Chris exclaimed, winking. “I can’t believe you’re making me wait for you.”

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Breakfast came and went, as did the rest of the morning. It seemed only a blink of time before Yuri was seated in the window side of an economy seat, using Victor’s shoulder for a makeshift pillow. His dreams were something like the photo reel Phichit had showed him, mixed with some actual memories briefly rising to the surface. There was a moment where he felt like his and Yurio’s heads nearly missed bumping into one another as they were dipped by their dancing partners at the same time, in some sort of weird tango.

Something swirled in his subconscious that didn’t take place in the banquet hall. Flashes of clothes strewn about on the floor, the sound of a belt unclicking and being removed, silver strands of hair tickling his cheek and blue eyes looked down on him from above, the feel of skin on skin as a bare chest flattened over his own, the feeling of…

_OH!_

Yuri shot up with a start, startling Victor as his eyes darted over to see what the matter was. “Yuri, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?” he asked, raising his lip to his chin in observation.

Whether the images in his head were just a dream or real stayed a mystery in the moment. _What really happened last night? _Yuri thought, bringing his hand to hold where a headache pulsated through his forehead and to the back of his skull. “I’m fine…I think. I don’t know if I was dreaming or if…” he trailed off and looked over at Victor, studying for any sign of an answer on his face.

“Good, you need your beauty sleep.” Victor purred, turning in to kiss the top of Yuri’s forehead, nose, and lingering softly on his lips with just enough force to feel the touch, but still leaving the trace of a tingle on Yuri’s lips as he pulled away, brushing the lips with his thumbs as he looked down at Yuri’s big brown eyes. He pulled away and smiled, “I like being able to kiss you when I want to.”

Yuri felt the rise of anxiety as his brain tried to dissect what Victor said for himself. Finding a million possibilities and no clear-cut answer he decided to just ask. _“_Victor…last night…did we, umm….did I…did you…?”

Those anxious eyes cut into Victor, knowing full well what he was trying to ask. _He must have at least remembered part of it. _He thought, putting his lip to his chin before he spoke. “No….sort of…not really.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was answering your questions.”

“Victooor…” Yuri whined, his face starting to flush.

Victor looked over and took Yuri’s hand into his own, running his thumb over the top gently, “Yuri, let me ask you… do you feel any different?”

_What’s that supposed to mean? Why is he always so cryptic? _Yuri scratched the top of his head as he pondered over everything that could possibly feel different. His head felt like it was stuffed with rocks. The acid in his stomach churned bitterly as it tried to digest the little bit of breakfast he ate. Every muscle in his overworked and over danced body screamed at him to never move again. All of that could only add up to one thing. “I have a hangover.” He answered.

A sigh expelled between Victors lips, but he kept with his gentle thumb strokes, “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then…errr-No?” Yuri thought through as much limited and secondhand knowledge he had on the subject subtly being discussed. Sharp images of school --overhearing whispers from older rink mates, a few notes from school lectures, and Victor skating the Eros program for the first time all ran through his mind. All of it felt hollow, though, lost in a context he didn’t really have. “Would I?”

Victor huffed a laugh and nodded, “Yes.”

“Oh, so we didn’t do anything?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that...”

“Victor-“

“We did not do anything we haven’t already done. Just kissing, maybe more kisses and more forcefully, but nothing more.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Nothing was deeper than surface level.”

“Oh, okay.” Yuri said, his eyes turning down to stare at his knees. A feeling between relief and let down surfaced in the top of his heart, panging his chest. 

Victor could sense it and looked into his eyes, leaning over to press his forehead against his. Silver hair intermixed with black as Victor pressed in to gently touch a kiss against Yuri’s lips. “Yuri, one day you will teach me your eros and I will get to teach you mine behind closed doors. You’ve unlocked so much on the ice, but there’s more you still haven’t even realized. I’ve waited, and I will continue to wait. I promise.”

The air in the cramped economy seating lightened as Yuri allowed the freedom of safety to wash over him, even if his face flushed. His smile brightened with his shimmering brown eyes and he backed out of the kiss to give a quick kiss to Victor’s cheek in understanding and wrap both arms around the closest arm, nuzzling in to return back to his sleep.

_Eros behind closed doors, hm? _

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Fourteen hours flew by between cumulous clouds and sunsets rising again. Victor clicked on his phone to turn back on the data, placing it back in his coat pocket and reaching back for Yuri’s hand as they rounded the airport to the terminal. “It was really great we got such a good flight. Neh, Yuri? Just one train ride and we can soak in the onsen!”

The top of Yuri’s beige coat looked as though it only held a mop of black hair as Yuri sunk himself into the head of his jacket, becoming a turtle to not be noticed. “Mhm. Yeah. Onsen. Great.” He said in a muffled tone through the buttons of his coat.

Victor stopped abruptly, turning around to gawk at his fiancé. “Yuri, what are you doing?”

No words popped out of the beige coat shaped shell, but Victor noticed Yuri’s sneakers rubbing against each other nervously. “Oh…uhm…well…people might start noticing me here…” Yuri sputtered, stull rubbing his soles together.

A dark look cast over Victor’s usually joyous façade. He narrowed his eyes and leaned in until his nose touched the wisp of a black hair. “Yuri, are you telling me you’re still trying to hide from your fans?” he asked with the tone of authority dripping on every syllable.

Yuri’s head popped out from his shell, thrusting his glasses to hang on his face sideways, “What?!? No! I-uhm-was” he flailed his arms out sporadically trying to seem as genuine as possible.

Victor kissed his cheek before pulling up and turning around, “Still seems you need a lot of coaching on _a lot _of things.” He said, tousling his hair back to give Yuri his signature panty-dropping wink.

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Victor didn’t pull his phone out of his coat pocket until they were situated on the train, their feet vibrating lightly as they sped hundreds of miles an hour; the shuttle raced to the Hasetsu depot silently. The rich green tapestry of countryside blurred and refocused in the background as Victor leaned his head against the window, parceling through the copious amount of notifications to decipher between ones that needed answered and ones that could wait.

Silver strands fell down the side of his face, tickling the tip of his lip as he smirked through a few social media comments on Phichit’s expose on Yuri’s drunken seduction techniques. _I’m really going to enjoy bringing that side of him home. _Victor thought, turning his head to the side to kiss to top of Yuri’s head, hearing a slight grunt escape from the already asleep man leaning on his arm once more. Not that Victor minded, feeling Yuri lean against him reassured that the ring he wore on his finger meant what he wanted it to all along.

_ Should I make him wait until he wins gold to start making plans?... Ah, we have time. My Yuri is still adjusting. _

His fingers tapped the phone screen, thumbing a couple of messages before hitting send. Flipping up through the next few notifications seem temporal paced until those fingers stopped mid motion as he stared unblinking at the screen, eyes as intense as the morning he grabbed Yurio’s face on the bridge in Barcelona.

_[Ебать, Виктор._ _Что ты сделал?]_

_[Link to Russian gossip column with the headline, _

_“Wedding Bells for Russian Hero Viktor Nikiforov?” _

_With a thumbnail of the pair skate kiss]_

_[Я ясно дал понять. оставить его.]_

A nondescript number appeared where a contact name should be, and Victor scoffed aloud as he read the three texts a few times before holding over the notification bubble and pressing DELETE. “Nikogda.” (Never.) He stated emphatically, his voice lowered to almost a grunt.

The strange deep tones roused Yuri awake, and he flinched a little at the sound, “Hah!? What’s going on? Victor?” he asked, rubbing his eyes with an index finger under his glasses.

The strangely tense eyes shifted back to the serene sweetness before Yuri had a chance to notice. “It was nothing. I was just talking out loud. Yakov wants to know when I’ll be in St. Petersburg. I told him our things were already on the way there.”

“Victor! You didn’t tell me you had our stuff moved already!”

“I didn’t? I must have forgot!”

“Victor!”

“You knew I was like this before you agreed to marry me.” He teased, swooping his arms over Yuri’s shoulder to draw him into a brief but deep lip tangle. “I just had them get what we won’t need. We will need every second this week to prep for your nationals. I want to see you land that flip in your short program.”

“Mhm.” Yuri agreed, feeling a bit more at ease at the thought that he didn’t need to pack. His eyes widened and cheeks flushed, _I wonder if they packed my posters?_

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The taxi pulled to the edge of Yutopia Katsuki with a screeching halt. Victor and Yuri tumbled out of the backseat, the weary afterglow of the exhausting travel and the excitement of being home draped over them like a worn but comfortable blanket. Each of them grabbed their respective luggage out of the trunk, adding to the pile an extra duffel bag they had to buy after their Barcelona shopping spree the day before the short program.

“Let’s just go in the front!” Victor suggested cheerfully, already opening the door to the entrance.

“Ugh, okay.” Yuri agreed reluctantly, “I don’t really know why we have to go in the fr-“

“CONGRATULATIONS!!!!!!” several voices called in unison as Yuri entered the threshold. Yuri shrieked and stumbled backwards out into the doorway, landing on his back before thrusting his head forward.

“Minako-sensei! Mari-neechan! Yuchan and Nishigori! Mom! Dad!” Yuri exclaimed, standing up with a huff and brushing himself off. Victor was already on his knees welcoming his brown poodle, squishing the jowls and curly fur on Makkachin’s face. Yuri finally looked up, adjusting the brim of his slanted glasses to read the blue paint on the white tapestry hanging above where his family and friends stood: CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR MEDAL, YUURI! (AND YOUR ENGAGEMENT!!!)

Victor seemed to notice the sign a second after Yuri finished, and hopped over to slink his arm over his fiance’s shoulder, drawing Yuri against his side as he reached to hold his right hand in his own, the gold of the rings glinting in a showcase display. “Arigatou!!!!”

A crimson peaked over his pale cheeks, and he rang his hands nervously, “Oh…uhm…I’m sorry…I didn’t tell you, yet.”

“It’s all good!” Yuri’s mom, Hiroko bounced in exclamation. “We’re just happy for you!”

“One of you is going to have to learn how to make katsudon now.” Toshiya teased, the tips of his cheeks pressing up his wire-rimmed glasses.

The relief of everyone knowing settled him down from some of the subconscious anxiety; Yuri relaxed into a smile, allowing himself to feel the love and support of his family and friends for Victor, and everything that meant for him. “Dad…” he began.

Toshiya clapped his hands together. “And you can both sign pictures!”

“Dad!”

A three-tiered hum emitted from behind Nishigori’s legs, and three large cheeked triplets poured out between them.

“Who proposed?”

“When are you getting married?”

“Are you switching to pair skating?” Three voices asked intensely, their lines overlapping the others causing a bead of sweat to drip.

Yuri clamped his hands over his head as stars circled his forehead, “I…don’t even know how to answer that…”

“COOOL ITTTT!” Yuko stretched her arms out to try to corral her triplets, “Sorry! Axel, Lutz, and Loop have been going crazy since seeing your kiss during the skate.”

Victor laughed gingerly and smiled, holding up an index finger “_It’s okay. I can answer the questions.” _He replied, holding up a chalkboard from seemingly outer space and drawing on the board as he spoke as quickly as possible_, “We went shopping and sightseeing in Barcelona. It was really sweet and fun until Yuri lost a bag of nuts and everything turned sour!!! WE NEVER FOUND THEM!!! We walked around the Christmas market and Yuri eyes sparkled. He got my ring and then I got one for him. He took me Sagrada Cathedral and said mine was for good luck. He didn’t really say anything else but I could tell he wanted to say more, so when Chris asked and Phichit got it confused I told everyone they were engagement rings and we’d get married when Yuri won gold… Yuri didn’t say anything. SO SAD! Then after the free skate he told me we should end things and I realized he didn’t understand I was going to stay by his side. So after the Grand Prix Final I took him to the ice rink, gave him his Duetto costume, got down on one knee and asked him to marry me. He said YES!!! IT WAS AMAZING!_” Victor explained, heaving for a breath of air at the end. “So, actually both of us…when Yuri wins gold… and only in exhibitions.”

Yuri perked up and pressed both of his hands together in hopefulness. “Really? You’ll do another pair skate with me?”

“Mhm.” Victor replied with a gentle glimmer in his blue eyes. Yuri flung his arms over Victor’s shoulder in the rush of excitement of getting to skate with Victor again, his eyes shimmering with the hope that could only cause Victor to blush with adoration.

Minako quirked a brow, _All this talk about marriage and you get excited over pair skating?....Figure skaters…._

The celebration left everyone with blissful smiles as they sat in the main area of Yutopia Katsuki. Silver strands poured like a waterfall onto a black river of coarse strands as Victor rested his head on top of where Yuri rested against his shoulder, a long arm around Yuri’s waist holding him close to his side as close as he could, given his crossed legs under the low brown table. The glint of his ring caught the light as Yuri rubbed his stomach, “MMMM, that katsudon was so good…”

“Mhm. VKUSNO!” Victor agreed, the glee in his voice tangibly lifting the serene lull the party had accumulated into. His free hand went to rustle Makkachin’s brown fur as the dog laid in the part of the lap not commandeered by Yuri. He bent over enough to plant his lips gingerly in the top of Yuri’s brow, “You earned it.” He said, received a nod and a nuzzle from his partner in response.

Each of the triplets nestled their brown heads against their mom’s lap, snoring deeply in a stupor, drunk off of too many questions and answers. Yuko patted their heads with her black fingerless gloved hands and smiled down on them, “They are your biggest fans, you know?” she stated quietly, trying not to rouse the three.

Nishigori came behind the two and landed a large flat palm on each of their shoulder with a clap, “And not just with skating!”

“Really?” Victor and Yuri wondered in unison, through Victor’s piqued interest to Yuri’s encroaching food coma hum of acknowledgement.

Yuko chimed in, “Mhm. We had to keep stopping them from making secret wedding plans when Minako emailed us.”

“Once Victor told me it was true...and you both weren’t on something at the dinner.” Minako-sensei slurred a little, the beer waving with her arm as she gestured to the people in the room, “I figured everyone here should know. Yuri isn’t good at announcements about himself.”

“I know.” Victor teased.

Brown eyes peaked up from where he laid drooping into Victor’s collar bone. “Isn’t there anyone you want to tell?” he inquired, looking up into the blue crystal eyes with an innocence Victor wouldn’t wish to smear from him for anything this lifetime could offer.

An index finger pressed against Victor’s glistening lips as he closed his eyes in thought, “Everyone here already knows, Yuri.”

“But…what about people not here? In Russia? What about your fam-“

“I know who I haven’t told!” Victor’s voice rose in a childish giddiness cutting Yuri off midsentence. Hands reached over to the table as Victor pulled his phone out and extended his arm, holding their right hands together like he did when they entered the hot springs resort a few hours prior. A snap of a moment and a flash revealed a heart shaped mouth Victor with a startled but trying to smile sheepishly Yuri. “YAYY!!!! SMS knows!!! #official #rings #theyreapair #whenhewinsgold YESS!!!” Victor’s arms squeezed onto Yuri’s frame as he nuzzled the top of the head. “You’re the best, Yuri. Let’s go to the Onsen!!!” Victor exclaimed, jumping up so quickly Yuri lost his perch and fell backwards, landing with a thud on the floor.

Still dizzy and dazed, Yuri shook himself, leaning up on his elbows, and agreed still confused, “Oh-kay?”

_He’s always so energetic. _“Neh, Victor! Wait up!”

The only visible part of Victor as Yuri started to rise was the pale bare back of his ankle. No one noticed the blue in Victor’s eyes turn to ice as he made his way down the hall, nor the clench in jaw.

_The last time I let you control my life was the last. I almost lost Yuri this weekend because he thought he knew what was best for me. He didn’t make my decision. Neither will you._

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Groans caught between breaths as Yuri heaved in the damp air of the locker room area, his arm still extended to hold the door open. Black spikes dripped sweat from the ends dramatically as his back rose and fell with each inhale and exhale. “How did you get here so fast?” Yuri said, exasperated.

Black bikini bottoms latched on his hips as the only thing left on Victor’s muscular pale frame. His eyes danced, shimmering as his joyous phrase returned, “I have longer legs.” He suggested as more of a tease than anything else, walking over to plant a kiss on Yuri’s already wet head. “There’s at least a three-inch difference between us,” Victor purred, turning to slip out of his underwear. He put them in the locker, leaving it open for Yuri’s things before exiting the area, “I’ll meet you in the onsen. Don’t take too long!”

The air felt empty in Victor’s absence, waking Yuri from his straining brainwaves and snapping him into the present. His eyes grazed the room, noticing that no one was in the area but them since the hour was so late. “Erm-yeah…” he managed to say belated. His fingers rounded the ends of his sweatshirt to begin tugging it off, his eyes staring forward as the wheels began to turn in his noggin. As the fabric reached his shoulders, he stopped abruptly, his mouth gaping underneath the shirt.

_Was he just talking about height when he said three inches?!?!_

Wisps of steam rolled off the top of the hot mineral water, wafting into the chilled winter night air. Victor heard the soft padding of footsteps thudding across the deck, but kept his eyes closed to stay in the serenity of the moment. The steps came closer until he felt the ripple of the water. His silver curtained eye peaked over to take in the view of Yuri’s slender calf diving into the water, his pointed foot already submerged. Victor’s eyes followed up his plush but still firm thighs, rounding over the curve of his backside to the deep turn of the small of his back until only the tips of his shoulder muscles were exposed to sight. 

Though the reason was unknown to Yuri, hackles raised on his skin as he caught Victor’s gaze on him. “Is there something wrong? Do I have something on me?” he panicked out loud, touching his wet skin to see if something had landed on him.

The deep liquid blue rushed as Victor snaked his arm around Yuri’s waist to pull him closer. “No, I was just thinking how happy I am that I’m with you.” He purred, stretching his leg forward to put his knee cocked at the thigh on the bench and deftly running his fingers along Yuri’s side, “And that I get to do that,” he spoke as a breath of air rushed from him into Yuri’s mouth from the closeness of his face. The tip of Victor’s nose touched to Yuri’s small upturned one, nuzzling for a spell, “And that I get to do this.” Victor spelled love with his lips over Yuri’s, lacing them over the top of another, holding in with a deep thirst like the rest of the world was a desert and Yuri the only well. Both of his large pale wet arms wrapped over Yuri’s back to hold at the small and drew Yuri as close as their turned knees would allow.

Yuri’s mind raced to catch up with his heart. Every time their lips touched, it brought a tingle on every inch of his skin that left him melting inside himself. He pressed his lips back into the kiss as much as he knew how, given that he just started actually kissing anyone two days prior. He raised his hand, water droplets pattering beneath as they fell back with the rest to cup Victor’s cheek like Victor had done before. Each kiss left him a little breathless, and his breathing started to change pattern unknowingly. _Is this how this is supposed to work? How did he know I wanted to marry him? That I wanted to do all this with him? Did I even know it? It had to be the same way he knew I wanted to win even when I was so anxious. Somehow, he just knows. It’s like he sees my soul…_

A splash of water smacked the underneath of Victor’s chin as Yuri’s knee raised up out of the water, surprising both Victor and Yuri. “Oh! Uhm…” Yuri’s cheeks flushed a deep red, and he brought his eyes to stare at the statue in the middle of the onsen. The chill of the air stung on his flared face and he stammered, “So…uhm…St. Petersburg? You moved us but you haven’t told me when we are moving.”

Victor eyes softened, realizing why Yuri had pulled away and changed the subject. _Perhaps, kissing in the onsen might not be the best place for awhile. At least, not that much kissing. _He thought, turning around to face forward and placing his arm over Yuri’s shoulder, stroking his thumb calmingly. “Right. I thought about leaving right away, but Japanese Nationals are only ten days away.”

“Mhm.” Yuri’s breathing started to calm under Victor’s soothing strokes of his thumb. “Are you sure Yakov will let me train?”

Victor quirked a brow, “I thought you didn’t remember the banquet after you took pictures?”

“I…don’t. Not really. I remember a lot of yelling and pointing at me.”

“Ah…don’t worry. The RSF want my comeback. Taking you with me is what I want.” He said, leaning over to nuzzle Yuri’s ear, “And I hope what you want, too?”

Yuri gave him a look, as though questioning why he thought to ask after already packing up and moving all of their stuff, “Yes!”

“Good! Returning to St. Petersburg will be amazing with you!”

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Green resort robes clung to both of their bodies, Victor’s tied loosely to leave his warm skin revealed as the two made their way through up the two flights of stairs to the hallway where Yuri’s old room and the repurposed banquet room resided. Victor’s arm was latched in it’s rightful place around Yuri’s shoulders; he felt resistance as he turned to open the banquet room.

“I left the bed here.” He explained, “Mari helped them with what to move of your things.”

“Mhm.”

“Did you want to sleep in there? We’ve been making a tiny bed work the past couple of days, we could be cramped for one more night.” Victor offered sweetly, but with a tone that said he’d rather not. Makkachin’s paws clanked as he trotted up the stairs, letting a whine at the banquet doors to be let in.

The whine shifted Yuri’s focus off of the mostly empty room casting a light at the end of the hall. “Uhh, no. I think I just want to go in there for a minute alone. I’ll be back.” He said, stepping off from Victor’s shoulder to go down to his old room. Victor shrugged and picked up Makkachin to hold in Yuri’s place until he returned, going in the banquet room and falling on the white comforter blanketed bed.

Yuri pulled the door shut behind him and stepped over to the bed, turning to sit on the floor and lean against the mattress. His brown eyes scanned the ghost of a room, noticing the empty shelves near the closet. _All of my medals from Juniors, and some from seniors, too. _The bare walls had become a new normal, though he remembered where each specific poster had gone.

The scene in the room changed, and a spectre of his younger self appeared, short black spikes laying like a crown atop a face smiling at all the posters as he taped them on the wall. In cross faded flashes, the image of Yuri changed as he grew older, adding every medal to the shelf, and sitting against the wall with tears streaming down his face at every competition lost.

_Everything. Every moment since I saw Victor I wanted him to see my skating. I wanted him to see me as his equal. Every year I kept trying. I kept practicing. I spent so much time admiring him at a distance. But, everything I wanted him to see; my skating, me, all happened in the completely opposite way than I had ever imagined it. What did I want when I finally met him? When he finally saw me? I spent so much time trying to catch up that I don’t think I ever got that far when I thought about it. _

The door puffed as it shut behind Yuri and he walked the few steps to the banquet room doorway and peered in. He watched silently in the doorway as Victor sprawled out on the bed, resting his chin on a bulge in the ruffled comforter where he had obviously been rough housing with the poodle while waiting. He nested his long pale fingers in the curly brown fur and cackled as Makkachin licked his cheek, finally seeing Yuri standing at the door. Victor’s blue eyes grew larger with excitement and he sat up, throwing his arms out, “YUUUURRIII!!!”

Wind kicked up under his feet as Yuri leapt forward into Victor’s arms, throwing them back onto Makkachin, who cried with a yelp. “Oh! Gomen!” Yuri apologized, leaning down to plant a small kiss on the pup’s head. He looked back at Victor’s crystal blue eyes and reached the tips of his fingers to brush some of the silver strands out to get a clearer view of them. He fell a little down as Victor scooched up to sit in his elbow, kissing top of his nose before grapping him and rolling him to flip their positions. Both of them were caught in the giggles and laughter, and Victor leaned down to kiss him one more time. And Yuri knew.

_This. This whole time, this is what I wanted. _

Tears formed at the rims of Yuri’s eyes like the moment Victor told him he had to win 5 gold championships. He had felt it then, but he didn’t understand the feeling until this moment. “Victor…I” He started.

“Yuri, is everything alright?” Victor asked concerned, noticing the tears in his eyes.

“Yes. I just wanted to say that I lo…I love that you are staying as my coach.” he said, defeated at the end by his own nerves. _I can agree to marry him but I can’t say that to him?_

Victor smiled a knowing smile and rolled to actually get into bed, ushering Yuri to scooch up and climb under the comforter. Makkachin settled at their feet as Victor snaked his arm over Yuri’s side, holding his hand over his heart. _I think I’ll wait until Yuri actually tells me he loves me to make love to him. I’ll know he’s ready body, soul, and mind then._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Silver metal scratched along the ice towards the center as Yuri edged the outside with his blade. He floated on the right skate as his left turned at a sharp angle to thrust forward, using the toe-pick to assist his vault into the air and spin: One, two, three…

Shkshtthshhhk…

The gleam of the ice caught the puffs of the black short coat as Victor raised his arms through his silver hair, “That was under-rotated again. Yuri.” _Ever since the day after we arrived in Hasetsu, Yuri’s been working on perfecting the quad lutz… and _kissing.

“I know. I know!” Yuri said, coming to a halt at the edge of the rink. He leaned up against the chipped yellow paint of the barrier and let out an exasperated sigh. “Why can I land it just fine when I skate your freeskate, but not when I’m trying to add it to mine?” he asked, rubbing the sweat from his forehead off with his black gloved hand.

“Because you know the entry point when you’re skating my free program,” Victor explained, pushing off on his toe pick to glide closer to Yuri. One gold blade drifted between the two silver-bladed black leather skates until the grey fabric of Victor’s hip hugging sweatpants slipped between Yuri’s black with a blue stripe lycra pants until Victor’s knee hit both of Yuri’s upper legs with a swoosh. Pale fingers circled up Yuri’s side until Victor found his spot with his fingers tracing the edge of Yuri’s chin. “You think too much when you are doing your own programs.” Victor’s hair prickled on Yuri’s growing redder by the second cheeks as he leaned in to whisper, Victor’s lips teasing the edge of Yuri’s as he spoke, “Is there anything I can do to ease your mind?”

Black spikes raised a few inches from where they normally splayed on Yuri’s head, a shiver running up and down his spine. He leaned a little over the wall to back out of Victor’s trap. _How does he expect to ease my mind with that look?!? _“Oh-uhm-N-no…” he stammered, entirely unconvincing in his plea of innocence.

The eager but still naïve rush of red across Yuri’s face only spurred Victor on, and he pushed forward on his blade to wedge his leg further up Yuri’s thigh. “Yuuuriii, I’m your fiancé and your coach. Surely, there must be something you can think of…” he purred, cupping his hand over his chin until the knuckle of his index finger perched at the edge of his bottom lip. Blue eyes darkened to their sultry shade of almost a deep sapphire as he loomed over Yuri’s frantic and flailing body playfully, “Tell me.”

Yuri’s breath quickened as one lapsed over the other, not allowing him much oxygen in his shaky lungs. “I…I…I want…” he started to sputter out a few syllables, watching the blues of Victor’s eyes relishing the position he put him in. _ How does he manage to keep putting me in these positions? _A flash of the brief clipped memories of their drunken night in Barcelona crept in his mind, seeing the same look in Victor’s eye. Yuri stopped abruptly and quirked a brow, “What do you want?”

A mischievous smile formed from the center to the edges of Victor’s mouth like he was drawing the look on with a stencil himself. He brought himself over until his nose was at the tip of Yuri’s nose, pecked quickly against his lips, “I thought we could work on pairs, again.” Victor said with a breathless amusement on the tip of his tongue. He jerked himself up vertical and dashed off, leaving Yuri’s brown eyes a mess of flustered stars in confusion.

“H-Hai!” Yuri said, waking himself up by shaking his head furiously from side to side. He kicked up from the back wall and gave chance. “Neh, Victor, what do you have in mind?”

“Something completely new! A surprise for Worlds!” Victor put his index finger in the air as an exclamation point. He interlaced his fingers in Yuri’s outstretched hand as he came to join his side, dragging him over until Yuri was in front of him, facing out the same way Victor was. Yuri gave into the glide as he felt Victor’s hand settle on either side of his waist, leading them around the rink. Victor spoke softy, nuzzling the back of Yuri’s ear, “We just have today and tomorrow to have a rink entirely to ourselves. I’d like to plan some of the moves at least while we’re here.”

“Mhm.” Yuri replied. Lost in the feeling of Victor’s blades skating them both around, he gave up control. A calm sunk into his skin as he allowed Victor’s knowing body to take them wherever. There was something cerebral in their movements, and Yuri knew Victor would never let him fall. _Somehow, when Victor holds me, I’m more secure then when I’m alone. _

The black tresses tingled the bottom of Victor’s skin as Yuri leaned his head back. Victor looked down to see Yuri’s eyes closed, trusting Victor to move for them both. He placed a kiss through those locks of hair and smiled. _I guess I got Yuri’s mind off of it after all. _

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The lush mineral water soothed the aches in Yuri’s muscles as he dipped himself in until only his face was visible. Water rushed around his thin frame and warmed him from the outside in. “MMMhhmhhh…the onsen sure hits the spot! I’m gonna miss this in St. Petersburg.” He exclaimed to no one but the leafless trees and disturbing red demon mask against the back wall of the onsen.

A creak called out through the silent night as Victor opened the door and stepped out on the deck. His pale bare body glistened as the water from the shower still dribbled down the ridges of his toned core, all of it exposed save for a shoulder that held a small white towel draped over it. Blue eyes fixed on the blue screen where he read something from his phone. “There’s an email reminder from the JSF about physicals needing to be submitted before the short program. Yuri, have you had your physical for the year?”

Hearing nothing but crickets, Victor glanced up from the screen to see a barely there back of a head treading the water to hide behind the statue in the middle. “Yuri? Did you hear me? We need to submit the documents.”

“_Ihaven’thadaphysicalsinceleavingDetroit.”_ Yuri mumbled behind the stone pillar. Trying to peer out the opposite side to see if he could get a view of Victor’s feet, he pressed his hands around the sculpture and pulled out as little as possible to see the deck.

_I don’t like bothering with the doctor. They get too close and ask too many questions. _

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, YURI?” Victor asked, suddenly too close behind Yuri’s back.

“EEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!!!” Yuri shrieked, his skin vibrating as he leapt almost completely out of the water. Drops of water flung in circular motion as Yuri spun around to see Victor standing in the water next to him. “How’d you- erm-”

“Yuuuurrri,” he said in the _I’m your coach aren’t I?_ tone, “When was your last physical?”

“Ummm….well, I… I wasn’t really going to be skating anymore when I first came home and then you showed up and well…” Yuri said sheepishly, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and looking out into the distance.

“When, exactly, then?”

Yuri shrugged and backed away a bit, hesitating. “Sometime before the grand prix final….in Sochi?”

Victor pressed his hand around his chin and sighed, trying to come up with a solution. “Our flight leaves late enough… we’ll just have to go in the morning.” He declared.

“What? But we were going to practice!” Yuri pouted, “Can’t we get an extension or something since I thought I’d be retir-”

A finger pressed against Yuri’s mouth, and eyes glared in his direction with the phrase “_We do not speak of the word retire”_ written in the blue sapphire irises. “I want to know my athlete is in complete physical health. You can do that, right Yuri?” He spoke with the tinge of sweet passive aggression dripping on the ends of each word. Yuri nodded, accepting his fate.

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Yuri’s nostrils singed as he inhaled the stale clinical air of nothing mixed with a fake lemon scented disinfectant, pulling his charcoal hued beanie over his ears until only the rims of his glasses showed between the hat and his burgundy scarf, pushing his white medical mask under his nose. Victor nudged him forward into the main room of the medical office, his silver hair swaying in the breeze of the door shutting behind them. A muffled groan surfaced out of the head of Yuri’s coat and Victor gave a reassuring pat to his head.

“I know you hate the doctor. You told me the whole way over.” Victor stated, throwing his black coat off his shoulder and over his forearm, leaving just his beige three button shirt on with his black form-fit jeans. He put a finger in the air to make a point, “But, health is important to an athlete. Just take deep breaths…”

Brown eyes darted over the people in the waiting area, “I’m going to get sick just standing in this room…”

“I can go back with you if you want?” Victor offered, trying to calm him.

Yuri turned and quirked a brow, “Why would you go back with me? You won’t understand anything the doctor says.”

Arms draped over Yuri’s shoulders as Victor rested his chin on top of Yuri’s head, speaking through dark colored strands of hair, “Just to stay close to you.”

“Okay…” Yuri said, gaining the confidence to head to the receptionist desk. As he stepped forward, he felt Victor trotting behind him, not removing his position from leaning over him. Black hair smudged on the edge of Victor’s chin as Yuri shook his head. The rest of the few paces over to the desk looked more like an awkward penguin learning to walk than two adult men coming over. A few people took notice but quickly and politely averted their eyes, not wanting to make a rude gesture towards them.

Yuri’s eyes glanced upwards and he sighed, knowing there was no way he was going to unhinge the clingy Russian from him anytime soon. He really didn’t want to anyway, but the paranoia of seeming rude or out of character played to his Japanese sensibilities, and he tried his best to remain normal in tone as he talked, “Shinsatsu wo uketai no desu ga.” (I’d like to be seen by the doctor.)

The brown bobbed haired receptionist smiled sweetly at the two, bowing her head as she spoke, “Hokenshou wo onegaishimasu.” (Your insurance card, please.)

“Victor…” Yuri nudged his arm behind him trying to break free, “I need to get my insurance card.” Victor slipped off his shoulders, sulking a little having to let Yuri free. He found his wallet in his back pocket and fingered through the sections until the white plastic card came out clinched between his fingers.

The exchange happened in a blink; plastic card taken, scanned, given back. Waiting for the doctor put Yuri’s nerves on edge and he thumbed through his Instagram feed, finally seeing their announcement photo for the first time.

V-Nikiforov

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(Photo of Victor and Yuri at Yutopia. Yuri’s head resting on Yuri’s chest as their rings are displayed in their held hands.Yuri caught off-guard)

Liked by phichit+chu, christophe-gc and 19,218 others

V-Niforov: We call everything on the ice love. #yurikatsuki #engaged #official #rings #theyreapair #whenhewinsgold

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phichit+chu: Updating with a congratulations post now!!! #myfriendisgettingmarried

sukeota3sisters: Win gold, Yuri! Win! Win!

mila-bby: ohmyvictorwhydidn’tyoutellme!!!! #waittilyougettorussia

christophe-gc: The bachelor party will be better than the banquet. I’m already planning. 😉

_ We hadn’t talked about when to go public. I guess it didn’t matter once that photo went viral. This probably saves a lot of questions later. _

“Neh, Yuri, I think they called your name.” Victor leaned into to whisper, stealing a kiss behind his fiancé’s ear so no one could see. Public displays of affection still weren’t something Yuri was used to, and Victor would rather protect than embarrass him in a place like this.

Bland white tiled walls fit the small patient room like a cubicle too neat to belong to any worker. Yuri and Victor sat on black waiting chairs to the side by where a small white painted desk hung from the wall. Yuri’s shoe squeaked as the rubber caught the linoleum floor as he tapped his foot nervously.

Victor gave his thigh a gentle squeeze of reassurance as the large wood door cracked open. An older man squinted at the chart in front of him, the wrinkles folding into the skin around his eyes, “Katsuki Yuri?”

“H-Hai, Sensei!” Yuri answered.

The doctor smiled pleasantly, “Kyou wa dou sare mashita?” (What brings you here today?)

[I need a physical form for the JSF. I…haven’t had one yet.] Yuri admitted sheepishly. Victor looked on at both of them pleasantly ignorant to whatever was being said and smiled.

The doctor looked up from the chart and spotted the silver hair. [Ahh, yes! Congratulations at the final. I heard the nurses talking about it earlier. This is your coach, right? The famous Russian skater, Victor Nikiforov?]

[Ah, yes he’s my-]

Victor caught wind of his name being spoken and grinned his charismatic smile and waved, “Haiiii”

The doctor bowed, “Hello, Victor-san! You’ve brought many people to this town. We are grateful.” He spoke in the best English accent he could manage.

“Thank you.” He smiled sweetly.

Returning and flipping through the chart, he turned his chatter back to Yuri, [It looks like you haven’t been here in over five years. We’ll have to update everything on the chart during the physical. I’ll have one of the nurses come in if you’ll wait please.]

“Hai.”

“Kensa beddo ni yoko ni natte kudasai” (Please lie down on the examination bed.) the doctor gestured Yuri to the white sheeted examination bed in the middle of the room as he stepped out to fetch one of the nurses.

Yuri groan and begrudgingly stood up to climb on top of the bed. Victor looked over the perturbed small body throwing himself limply on the examination table. “What did he say?” he asked.

“He has to update everything since I haven’t been here since I left for Detroit.”

“Oh, that reminds me, Worlds is in Baltimore this year.”

“That’s nowhere near Detroit, Victor.”

“Oh…I guess I don’t know much about America. I’ve never really had a lot of competitions there.”

“I didn’t really see a lot of it. Just the rink and a few places around the city.”

A push on the door revealed a black laptop followed by a nurse with the doctor in toe. The laptop dipped as the nurse bowed graciously and took a seat at the white desk next to Victor, setting the computer down to begin typing.

[I will ask most of the questions during the exam. This way we can get through your history at the same time and you can get out of here faster.]

[Okay.]

[Any major illness or injury to report in the last 5 years?]

[Ummm….I had a really bad stomach flu two years ago in Detroit…]

[That’s not what I mean. Were you in the hospital for any reason?]

[Oh..no..not for me anyways.]

[Okay. Lift up your shirt for me and breathe deep.]

Yuri flinched as the cold steel stethoscope pressed against his bare back. The doctor listened as he heaved in and out.

[Everything sounds good there. No fluid on your lungs. Let’s see…anything in your family history need updated?]

[N—No.] Yuri winced and kicked as his reflexes were tested. The doctor knocked into his knees once more, eliciting a snicker from Victor under his hand.

[You seem to be in better shape than when you left. Your weight is lower. So…no new family medical history…no injuries or illness…You’re 24 now, so you would have been barely an adult when you were last here…have you had any partners you’re worried about?]

[Huh?]

[Do we need to run a blood test for anything from sexual partners? Or have you been careful?... Even if you have been, it’s probably good to go ahead and check if you haven’t.]

[I—umm.]

The glint of Yuri’s gold band caught the eye of the doctor. [Oh, I didn’t realize you were married. That’s not on your chart, either. What’s the name of your spouse?]

[Victor.]

[Come again?]

[I’m engaged….to Victor.] Victor looked up hearing his name for the second time, noticing the red hue on his fiance’s cheeks. _Oh, no. _ The doctor side eyed Victor, not revealing any since of disapproval in his appearance but his aura spoke another tone.

[So, Victor is your coach…and your partner?]

[Yes.]

[I see. Let me take a look at your eyes…So, did you and your partner get tested before?]

[Before? Huh?] Yuri balked, not really sure what to make of the statement with a light shining into his eyeball.

[A man like Mr. Nikiforov has been to many places in the world. I heard what some of the nurses said about him when he first came. He isn’t called the hottest bachelor in the world enough that I know that his reputation that without earning the title. Sexual health is important.]

Hands swished as Yuri rubbed his palms together, feeling them begin to dampen in sweat. [Yes..uhmmm….welll…you see I’m still…]

[You’ve talked about it, right? You both are athletes and sharing more than your bodies with…]

[We have-] He tried again, his voice caught between shallow rasping breaths of anxiousness.

[If you haven’t discussed it, we can test you both here. That way you’d know if you caught something from Vic-]

[We…we…I’m…] He lost all focus in the moment, any hope for a coherent phrase gone to the sheer dread of trying to say what he needed to the overly insistent doctor.

[If you are scared to get tested then you shouldn’t be having…]

“I’M A VIRGIN!!!!” Yuri screamed abruptly, so redfaced and flustered he switched to English without even thinking. The echo in the small space caught the attention of the people standing outside the hall as well as the shocked blue eyes staring up at him. Black hair snapped forward as he lowered his head as far as he could to apologize, [“Sorry, Sorry, Sorry. It’s just that I haven’t ever had to answer this question.]

“Yuri?” Victor rose up off the black vinyl seat and came over to his crumpled partner. The clipboard lifted over the doctor’s eyes as he turned to give the couple a moment, flipping through the pages and scribbling some notes. Long thin fingers reached out to race down Yuri’s jawline to his chin, lifting back him up so Victor could look into those embarrassed brown eyes. “I don’t know what was said that you had to say that but…”

“He wants you to get tested. He thinks your- He wants you to get tested for…”

Every urge inside Victor wanted to kiss Yuri to try and stop the growing raise of hairs and tenseness of muscles visible on Yuri’s body from the stress. _Now isn’t the place. He looks like he did in China before his freeskate. His eyes are almost red with tears he hasn’t even shed from the frustration and shame. I’ll just stand by him._ Viktor smiled and his eyes retracted to a softened state as he said, “Oh. Okay. Sure.”

“Really. You aren’t mad?”

“No. The doctor is being thorough. There’s nothing to worry about, though, Yuri.”

“I know.” Yuri said, but his eyes looked off to the side away and focused on a tile on the floor.

“So, just tell them I will get the blood test and the nurse can direct me while you finish your exam. It will ease their mind and yours.”

The waiting area shuffled people in and out through the almost revolving white door. Fine silver strands fell to a yellow hue making him look more like a normal blonde than his unique metallic translucence under the harsh overhead lighting as Victor glanced up eagerly from his phone every time to door opened, hoping he’d see his black spike mop of hair come through and not some unnamed person. Feeling the chill from the outside air, Victor pulled his coat over himself, carefully putting his arm in the sleeve so the pink gauze around his elbow did not catch the cloth. Twenty people trickled in and out before he saw the blue rimmed glasses appear through the door.

Whether or not Yuri felt upset could not be deduced by Victor’s vantage point as he stepped over to meet him at the door. The grey beanie covered most of the black hairs except for a few poking out from under Yuri’s ears. The tan coat crinkled as Yuri’s forearms wrapped around his elbows, trying to make himself as small as possible to go through the windowed office door Victor held out for him. He glanced up almost wincing in the pain of humiliation and Victor caught the despair drowning in the mahogany brown eyes.

_If I say the wrong thing…I could make this worse. Yuri has to perform tomorrow. I don’t want him to carry this onto the ice. _

The door shut with a snap behind them and Victor walked back up to Yuri’s side, careful to abstain from being overly touchy given the nature of everything that he saw occur and everything that usually occurs during a male physical exam. Cars passed by on road near the edge of the bridge as the two walked over the concrete path in silence.

A click of the phone and Victor read on the digital numbers what the time was, “We made pretty good time, Yuri! Let’s go to the beach! We haven’t been since summer!!!” he declared, grabbing onto the small soft frosted fingers to drag him forward.

“That’s because it’s winter!!!! Victor!”

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“Black-tailed gulls!” Victor pointed excitedly, remembering when Yuri had pointed that out the cloudy day in May when they shared an opening of hearts. The sands frozen crystals made the beach a smooth surface for walking, but a very cold place to try to sit, so they kept a brisk pace shoulder to shoulder against the horizon line.

Yuri’s hand’s finally fell to his side now that the doctor’s office was a blip in the distance and couldn’t poke, prod, or ask anymore questions. “Mhm.” He agreed flatly, lifting his hand to rub his arm where the nurse drew blood. “I think they tried to take a gallon for testing.”

The cover of cloud left the beach a greyish brown color even out to the ripples of ocean flowing in under as the wind brought the tide forward and then back, flipping Victor’s silver strands behind him as he walked. Fingers interlaces together and Victor put their held hands inside his pocket to keep them warm. Yuri allowed his hand to grasp into Victor’s but kept his gaze out to the water.

“Did the doctor say anything else after I left?” Victor asked.

Black ends of hair caught the wind and stood straight out as Yuri turned his head further from Victor’s line of sight. “N-No. Not really… he just gave some clinical..err…textbook advice on how…things…work while going over the whole physical. He thought I might want to know since we’re…together.”

“I see.” Victor gave a gentle squeeze to Yuri’s hand inside his pocket. “When I first went to the Olympics, I never thought I’d every experience anything like it. Everything was the same as every event I’d been to, except so bright and electrifying. It was new, but amazing! Have you thought about anything like that?”

Yuri let his eyes wonder to the pocket where his hand held Victor’s and let a grin slide from the corner of his mouth. “One time, after I turned twenty-one, I got really depressed that I didn’t make it to the Grand Prix Final. I was really close in scores with some of the others, but I didn’t medal at my two events. Some of the people from the rink took me out to try and cheer me up for my birthday, and I guess I had a lot more than I meant to…I woke up and couldn’t remember much of anything that happened that night. But… I remember this girl helping me home..”

“Was it the same girl you told me about before?”

“No, I…don’t even know if she told me her name. She wasn’t at the rink. She might have been a student at the University since a lot of skaters went to school and bars around there. I don’t remember anything but one thing she said.”

“What was that?”

“She said she never got a choice in losing her innocence, and she wasn’t going to let anybody take anyone else’s without it being their choice if she could help it…or something like that. I don’t even know why she said it. It made me think about it…today, after everything…thank you.”

Victor winced visibly when he heard it, a pain surfacing in the depth of his heart he didn’t remember was even there. “Of course.” He said, turning to face him as he grabbed both of Yuri’s hand and held them into his own. A bit of daylight peeked through the clouds and shone over the gold ring as Victor brought Yuri’s hand up to kiss the ring. “Show me what it’s like to watch you win gold tomorrow.”

There held something intangible on those words that only the heart of a skater understood. Yuri blushed as he lifted up on his toes to touch his lips softly to Victor’s, feeling the friction warming their cold lips.

_I realized that Victor never tried to go further than I wanted. He always meets me where I am. _

The wind blowing between their parted and turning lips to re-fall on one another again made Yuri think back on the day they were here before when they sat with Makkachin between them.

_“What do you want me to be to you? A father figure?_

_“No.”_

_“A brother, then? A friend?”_

_“Nnnnno.”_

_“Then, your boyfriend, I guess. I can try my best.”_

Yuri’s arms moved to Victor’s shoulders and forced him back out to arms reach, leaving blue eyes wide and confused. “Wait… You meant it when you said you’d be my boyfriend?!?!”

A huff and a laugh expelled from Victor’s mouth, and he moved Yuri’s arms around his neck to lean close. “Mhm. And now…” he spoke with a kiss inbetween, “I’m your fiancé. Pretty amazing, huh?”

Yuri’s lips caught the glimmer of a shine from the sunrays above as he smiled, “Amazing, Victor.”

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One white and one red suitcase, along with a couple black duffel bags stood again the opening bridge in the foyer of Yutopia Katsuki. Slurps sounded in the air as the brown poodle licked all over Victor’s face, getting a small cackle from his owner in exchange. “You’ll be in St. Peterburg in no time, Makkachin!” he mused, scratching the top of the dog’s head.

Yuri turned to the friends and family lined at the opening around them. Faces familiar and full of the usual suspects, Mom and Dad Katsuki, Mari, Minako, Nishigori, Yuko, and the triplets all rounded the entryway to see the both off, this time for longer than a competition weekend.

“Thank you for taking him to the airport for us, Nishigori.” He said.

A firm slap ran over Yuri’s shoulder from the heavy hand. Nishigori laughed and agreed, “No problem! This competition will be a breeze.”

_This is the competition that almost ended my career last year. _

_ “_We’re all rooting for you, Yuri!” Yuchan waved excitedly.

Minako twirled and held out her sign, “We’ll be watching here! I’ll cheer you on!”

“Th-Thank you everyone!”

Waves and final goodbyes became the exchange of numbers between Victor and Yuri’s parents and the promise to return as soon as possible. The taxi pulled to a halt with the luggage loaded, they were off.

Hiroko placed her hand on her chin, leaning on Toshiya’s arm as a happy lax smiled drew on her lips, “Those boys are going to make it.”

Toshiya looked down and smiled speaking only loud enough his wife could hear, “Musuko no sōrumeito.” (Our son’s soulmate.)

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The four-and-a-half-hour train ride chugged along without event, leaving the two in a restful state of mutual leaning as the vibrations rocked them both into a nap. Sleepy, haze filled eyes started to dissipate as the taxi scratched the break, leaving the stench of rubber against the cement of the Miro Hotel in Tokyo. Victor stretched his arms to a wide girth, rubbing against Yuri’s nose in the process.

“Achooo!” Yuri sneezed, reaching his hand up to rub his nose as he shuffled out of the taxi, “I knew I was going to end up sick. Right before Nationals, too.” A loud whistling sigh exhaled with Yuri’s breath of sadness and a aggressive note of, “I told you so” to Victor.

Knowing that one sneeze being the precipice of an illness to be completely absurd, Victor shook his head as he shut the trunk of the taxi and handed off Yuri’s part of the luggage to him. He slipped a duffel over his shoulder and took hold of Yuri’s free hand to thread his fingers as they walked forward, “We’re in Tokyo, Yuri! We’ll be the first skaters using the ice at the arena built for the 2020 Olympics. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah, yeah..” Yuri’s unpleasant monotone dismissed the idea of the Olympics. His mind raced back to the last time he competed in Nationals, and a growing unease settled at the base of his stomach, churning in acid until he felt nauseas. _I know I’m different, but part of it still feels the same. No, I just won silver at an international event, I shouldn’t feel nervous for Nationals. _

“You’ll just keep practicing and take this competition like a stepping stone.” Victor interjected, somehow seeming to read Yuri’s thoughts without needing him to say anything. “A lot of athletes use this competition to show their country why they should be picked for international competition. Just go for earning a new personal….”

The black threaded fabric of Victor’s coat arm squished into his bicep as Yuri pinched the back of the arm sleeve, stopping everything in the entrance of the brightly lit light colored entry way. A line drew over in place of Yuri’s lips as the anxiety in his gut finally found a home, “Victor, inthelastprogramIendedupbeatingyourfreeskate…how can I aim for a new personal best when…”

Blue eyes softened as his cheeks rose with his endearing smile, he reached up and took Yuri’s hand into his, lifting it to place a kiss on the ring. “You’ll surprise me. You always do. Do you want to check us in?”

“Mhm.”

The rolling sound of wheels grumbled over the green tile floor with blur tiles in a square of four as Yuri dragged his suitcase up the charcoal black colored reception desk. Victor rested his hand on one of the bright orange vinyl plush chairs in the middle of the foyer area, watching as Yuri spoke his native tongue to the pleasant-sounding receptionist. _No matter how confidant Yuri gets, he still can’t shed that initial feeling that he will fail. Maybe once he won all he lost at last year he will finally see he can continue to win. What can I use to motivate him?_

Yuri’s hand waved him forward, signaling that they could go up to their room. The wheels on the end of Victor’s suitcase joined in the rolling chorus as they pair made their way down the hall, only muffled when the tile turned to carpet at the end of the hall. Silver hair bounced as he walked next to Yuri, reading over his facial expressions as watching the seriousness of the event wear Yuri two sizes too small, leaving him in an almost gasp for air.

The elevator pinged. Parting the doors down the middle to release the gaggle of people exiting the building. A scratch sounded against the elevator door as Yuri’s duffle bad caught the edge on the way in, making him fumble as flop against the back wall. As he reclaimed his bearings and rolled his shoulder to turn, he found the strength of an additional hand spinning him around, pinning him against the metal bar.

A half a gasp released from Yuri’s lips before Victor smothered the rest in the heat of his mouth pressing into Yuri’s own. Warm long fingers threaded through black hair and pulled Yuri’s head into the moment, until all thoughts of the competition were absolved into the softness of lips to mouth, tangling in and pulling out. Victor walked into Yuri’s space, wedging them into the corner to begin a new string of kisses, careful to only part his mouth enough to lock with Yuri, but not to slip a tongue, not yet anyways. Another ding came as the doors parted open, but the sound was too early for their almost top level and Victor wasn’t stopping unless Yuri pushed him off. The pale fingers caressing the ends of Victor’s hair and the back of his neck didn’t waver as footsteps traveled in. The black coat hid most of them anyways, and Yuri was too lost in the moment of feeling those soft silky threads of lips stitching love across his own to really notice.

“Ahhhh…Ahhhh…Ahhh…” a gaspy high pitched voice squealed in the throng of people who had stepped on. The rest pretended not to notice but the tell-tale boyish fanaticism gurgled out from the mouth of a shaggy haired blonde with red dyed bangs. “YURI-KUN!” he finally shrieked, getting the attention of everyone in the elevator.

The two finally pulled apart, Victor looking over his shoulder baffled as Yuri grinned sheepishly from around the splay of Victor’s coat, waving gently. His cheeks deepened their already slightly red hue as he saw all of the people in the area, “Oh, Hi, Minami-kun! I didn’t see you there…”

Victor did his best not to look disappointed having to give up mid kisses to the squealing teenager he sort of remembered. The woman behind Minami who was trying hard not to hit herself with her own eyeroll he remembered as one of the coaches at Regionals.

“Ah!!! So exciting!!! I just get to Nationals and I’ve already seen Yuri-kun!!!” Minami’s hands came up until his dog tooth snagged on his black fingerless glove. “I got to watch your short program at Yutopia! .12 points from gold! So unfair!!!! So unfair!!!!”

“Oh..yeah..” Yuri rubbed the back of his neck nervously, not really sure if it was from being caught in a semi passionate kiss or the thought that he didn’t win gold. “Thank you?”

The raising anxiety of Minami blurting anything else was saved by the ping of the bell. “Yuri, this is our floor.” Victor said, placing his hand on the small of Yuri’s back to usher him forward. Yuri lifted his head to nod in acknowledgment as the two traipsed through the people until they were out from the trenches and back onto the fuzzy carpet of their hotel room floor.

“CONRATULATIONS ON YOUR ENGAGEMENT!!!” Minami shouted as he waved frantically. Victor gave a polite nod as the doors shut and turned to find his fiancé gone from his side.

Feet appeared to take flight as Yuri raced to the door with the corresponding number to the electronic key card in his hand. A quick click of the card whipping in and out and the twist of a door handle until the two were safely in the confines of a private room.

Each inhale and exhale deepened as Yuri caught his breath, leaning against the white wall just passed the entryway to the bathroom, pressing his hand to his heart. “Phew!!! Did you know he was there?” Yuri asked, staring into his refection in the full length mirror across from him.

The wall seemed to fall away from his back as Victor took his hand to nudge him forward, stepping behind him to wrap around his arms and begin unbuttoning Yuri out of his coat. “I had a hunch.” He admitted, releasing the last black button from the hole and moving his hands deftly up the opening the opening so the tips of his fingers caught along the fabric of Yuri’s sweater. He let them run all the way up to the collar bone before sliding underneath and peeling Yuri completely out of the coat, tossing it on the brown desk next to the mirror. “I wasn’t going to stop to make sure, though.” He said, tracing his pale poignant fingers up Yuri’s neck until he felt a shudder.

Lips traveled up and down Yuri’s neckline as Victor dipped his mouth around the slender taught skin. The image of Victor’s lips reflected in the mirror, and Yuri watched as he felt every ridge of those tender lips raise every goosebump on his body with one kiss. Silver bangs waved over, revealing a shimmer of blue and the tip of a straight prim nose. _ Seeing us this way is still surreal. Every touch reminds me of the first time he rubbed his thumb on my lip. I found what my eros is to me, it’s him. But, I still haven’t experienced in so many ways. _

“What…do…you…want…to…do…tonight?” Victor asked between kisses. He lifted his lips off of Yuri’s neck and rested his head on the same shoulder, weaving his arms around Yuri’s stomach as he stared in the mirror, smiling. _We look so cute together,_ he thought. “As your coach I suggest going to sleep early for tomorrow’s event…” He trailed, squeezing a little to nuzzle against Yuri’s ear, speaking in a deeper tone, “but as your fiancé…”

_GULP _

Victor snickered behind Yuri’s ear as he felt and heard Yuri’s anxious swallow. “But as your fiancé…” he continued, kissing the neck one more time, “I’d really like to take you out.”

Deep black spikes poked Victor in the face, causing him to scrunch his nose and retract as Yuri spun his head around and gawked, “Out? Like a date?” he asked, teetering his voice between excited, embarrassed, and afraid.

“Mhm.” Victor replied, kissing the top of his forehead as he stood back up to full height, walking over to join his coat to Yuri’s on the desk. “We’ve never really had one, at least, not one that we called that.”

_Victor and I have went out together lots of times during competition. But… we never called it a date… I told Victor to take me sight-seeing in Barcelona and he did…Was that a date? Have we been dating this whole time? I never let myself think that…Victor was going to Russia after the final…I don’t really know how to date._

“What’s the difference between what we’ve done and a…date?” Yuri asked, wringing his hands nervously.

A hand cupped over Victor’s chin in thought, “Nothing, really. We just don’t have to hide how we feel about each other now.” Victor said matter-of-factly as he walked back over to kiss Yuri’s forehead, holding his upper arms with his hands. “I’m going to change. Decide where you want to go.”

_I haven’t really told Victor how I feel. Not in words. He just seems to know without me saying. He isn’t wrong…I do…just no matter what I do there’s still a part of me that looks up to him as I always have when it comes to how all the ways I feel…it holds me back from the romantic love. I know it’s there. I just always thought it was just me, and it would linger in the back of my heart when all the other love came forward. The yearning…for this. _

_ But no matter what I do I still can’t say it out loud. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

“Kanpaiii!!!!”

Victors cheeks flushed a little under the fourth cup of sake he drained from the lip of the porcelain ceramic holder. The cup in Yuri’s hand only contained water, but he went along with Victor’s antics as he pretended to imbibe with him. “Yuri, look at all these different types of sushi. Eel! Crab! Squid!” Victor mused, excitedly lifting the raw squiggly roll with eel between chopsticks and holding it over trying to feed his fiancé, “You sure you don’t want any?”

“No, I avoid raw fish before competition.” Yuri lifted his hand politely to decline. He pulled his spoon from his ramen and slurped on the clear yellow broth.

“Oh, right.” Victor remembered, going back to claim another sushi roll and pop it into his mouth. The small overhead light created a glow on the rice as Victor held the next piece up to inspect it. His ring reflected a gold version of the sushi restaurant Yuri found while waiting for Victor in the hotel room. The scene gave a fun atmosphere with a modern chic white lined booth cushions in each of the stalls and wood fixtures with black finish stained on them. Something simple and sleek to appeal to the new crowd near the arena with a small bar area at the back corner. Victor noticed a small barkeep polishing glasses while watching a news station anchor talking about the upcoming events. He couldn’t understand anything but he saw Yuri’s landing of the quad flip at the final replay and smiled. “They’re talking about you on the television.” Victor said, pointing his chopstick to the screen above the liquor chamber.

Dark brows crinkled in quandary but circled around to where Victor pointed and Yuri saw a glimpse of his face on the screen. His face flushed and he swiftly turned back around, shrinking into his seat. Knowing exactly why his fiancé was slowly trying to descend under the table, he held out his hand palm out across the table, waiting for Yuri to return his hand. “You are Japan’s top skater. Notoriety is apart of being the top. The press is going to talk about you.”

Yuri’s eyes widened but he gave up hiding and instead grabbed onto Victor’s hand, feeling a thumb roll over the top to soothe him. He looked back around to the two girls at the bar and waved nervously with his freehand. The two dark haired girls who looked barely old enough to drink giggled and squealed, returning the wave before going back to chatting with each other.

“Exhale, Yuri, it’s over.” Victor stated as a tease and a reminder. A deep breath whooshed over Victor’s hair as Yuri released the breath he had been holding in, spiraling silver locks until they fell back down flatly with the rest of his silken layers.

The rest of the meal went on in the same manner as always, with the addition of their hands clasped in the middle of the table. Leaving the restaurant in the same manner, their hands held in the middle together as Victor swung them back and forth in his slightly buzzed amusing glow.

“In Japan, this,” Yuri started, squeezing his held hand for emphasis, “…is called a lovers bind. It’s only done by couples.”

Victor smiled and laughed adoringly, “…and by skaters before they go off to seduce their coaches.” He teased.

The memory of Yuri intertwining their fingers before touching his forehead to Victor’s played in his mind, and he reached up his outside hand to hold the back of his neck, “Yeah, I guess I did do that.”

“Your skating tells me more about you than you do, sometimes.” Victor said, lifting their hands up to kiss the back of Yuri’s.

_Walking next to Victor, even now, he knows without me saying anything. _

Victor pulled his black and grey checkered sweater over his head and laid it on the desk chair in front of him, leaning against the rim of the desk to take his socks off. The walk back to the hotel left both of them chilled and sleepy. Though. Victor supposed the sake might have something to do with his lids feeling heavy.

The light clicked off in the bathroom as Yuri returned, knuckling his eyes while he yawned. His green athletic shorts made a swishing sound as he walked over to put his glasses on the end table and plug in his phone on the charger he placed there before leaving earlier. With room barely large enough to house a double bed, Yuri indented the soft pillowtop comforter as he crawled on his knees over to the edge of the bed pushed against the wall.

_He doesn’t seem to be freaking out that there is only one bed. Maybe he is starting to adjust more. St. Petersburg will be really fun, then. _

Yuri scooched up to the foot of the bed, folding his legs over one another and he watched Victor take off his jeans and fold them neatly over the chair. “So…how do dates usually end?” Yuri asked, his voice lingering on a depth Victor hadn’t ever heard before. He glanced up and saw the shimmer of diamonds in those deep brown eyes Yuri sat _with_ his ankles crossed, flexing his toes as he held himself leaning back holding his weight on the palms of his hands.

_Yuri has no idea how seductive he looks right now. _Victor thought, walking over to put his phone on the charger, “Well…” he said, pushing the end of the charger into the port on his phone and setting the pink case back down. “Most dates end with a kiss at the door.” He said, coming back to face where Yuri leaned at the foot of the bed, “But..” his right knee dipped into the soft comforter next to the outside of Yuri’s thigh. He let his other leg stretch at the very edge of the mattress as his straight arm stood at either side of Yuri’s waist, holding Victor up.

Silver strands touched the edge of Yuri’s cheeks as they began to flush, the tips of their noses touching as Victor purred, “This date…” he placed a soft kiss on Yuri’s lips, feeling a slight gasp as a reward. Victor inched forward, kissing gently with each step as Yuri seemingly crab crawled with each of Victor’s advances, shuffling backward on the edge of each heel as he felt those warm inviting lips tingle on the breadth of his mouth.

One more kiss and they reached he headboard. Victor slowed the kiss to pull apart like the slow unveiling of a new present, “This date…” he started again, coming in one more time to press in, his knees bent on either side of Yuri’s thighs but not daring to sit in his lap. Both of Victor’s hands cupped around Yuri’s cheeks to draw him into another set of kisses, lips picking up a slight wetness from the intensity of each push and pull in and away, until Victor finally let Yuri come up for air. Half lidded blue eyes stared down at the shimmering mahogany eyes like he held the most precious thing in his hand. “This date is going to end with me holding you until you fall asleep. You have a competition tomorrow. You need to rest.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> End of Part 1: On Love

Chapter 6

Limbs laid tucked tightly in the darkness under the thick white cotton comforter. Throughout the night, Victor managed to wedge his top leg between both of Yuri’s, interlocking at the knee as they bent into s-shape. His bottom arm stretched out straight under Yuri’s head, the black spikes spiraled out where Victor’s arm was barely visible, except for his hand dangling near the small crevice between the bed and the wall. Yuri’s gold band beamed. It lay exposed to the streams of morning sun where Yuri held Victor’s makeshift pillow forearm. Yellow glints shone into Yuri’s eyes, waking him with a heavy-lidded twitch.

Not wanting to move from the warmth of Victor’s arms, he nestled in backwards into the contour of the body behind him. His white shirt pressed into the bare chest, making imprints in his back as each chisel of Victor’s core pronounced themselves like a stamp on his spine. Green athletic pants swished against the comforter as Yuri backed his hips into the deep part of the s-shape, feeling where Victor’s leg raised up his shorts until his thigh was basically as bare as Victor’s.

Yuri’s body began to relax under the newfound closeness, allowing their bodies to morph into each other’s and draw him back to a slumber. He felt the way Victor’s chest pressed in an out slowly with every deep sleeping inhale and exhale on his back, the warm sleek skin of Victor’s thigh running alongside his, up and around until the outline of Victor’s brief touched the outline of his upper thigh where the roundness of his backside curved into Victor’s front. Victor twitched in his sleep, wrapping his arm further over Yuri’s chest until he pulled him close enough that the black hair on the back of Yuri’s head poked into his neck. 

Brown eyes shot open and he muffled a gasp. _Is that…_ Yuri thought, wiggling his hips a little in case he made a mistake. _That’s Victor’s… I mean, I’ve felt it a little in the mornings…that’s normal…this is…more, though… He’s still asleep. Right? _Yuri stilled his inner thoughts to listen to Victor’s deep sleeping breaths. He twitched again, running his thigh up higher between Yuri’s legs before settling back down again. _He’s asleep. _One more twitch came from behind and Yuri felt a thumb slowly stroking on his chest. _Did I do this to him?_

Silver hair tickled the top of Yuri’s forehead and a sweet high-pitched yawn escaped from Victor’s lips. Yuri’s eyes stayed shut as he pretended to still be sleeping, not sure how to handle seeing Victor’s face or possible anything else that might be visible. A sleek gentle hand deftly ran up the outside of Yuri’s thigh, stopping where the cloth bunched together. Victor laughed to himself behind Yuri’s ear, pressing his lips to the tip. “I think it’s time we finished getting up this morning.” He said, rolling over and off the bed with a jump. Yuri heard footsteps pad over past the foot of the bed and into the bathroom. The door swished with a click and the sound of rushing bath water alleviated the silence.

_Victor told me to surprise him today… How am I supposed to do that? I took Yuri on Ice to the same difficulty level as his own programs. I guess Eros. I need to land the flip perfectly!_

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The hard steel folding chair gave little comfort to Yuri as he waited for his name to be called for the drawing of starting positions in the men’s singles competitions. Wafts of heated stress sweat blew through the overly crowded room filled with young hopefuls, some nearing the age of Yuri, and a lingering few older. Brown eyes wandered over the mass of brown to black heads, trying to pass the time with as little notice as possible. _ So few skaters make it past their twenty-fifth birthday. I’m twenty-four and I have five years left. I wonder who will be here when I’m done?_

“Katsuki Yuri.” The announcer called over the microphone. Yuri’s lycra navy pants skirted together as he walked up with intent to the bowl full of numbers. He plunged his hand in to white papers, determined to break his bad streak of picking first. _Not first. Not first. Not first. Not First. NOT FIRST._

A heavy sigh and the crinkling rustle of paper halted to a stop as Yuri pinched his chosen paper, lifting it into the air and reading the black typed digit printed on the small square sheet….2. “It’s not first.” He said, still feeling the pit in his stomach growl, but with less ferocity than it would have seeing a one.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…. I got to see Yurikun draw again! So, cool!!!!” a tiny high-pitched voice chirped as Yuri walked past.

“You’re really excited for this morning I see, Minami-kun.” Yuri replied as pleasantly as he could. Minami’s squeals over him still left him a little unsure of how he felt being some sort of role model.

“How could I not? First, I got to see you at the hotel and now I get to compete against you again, finally! It’s so cool!!! So Cool!!!!” the decibel in which Minami’s pitch reached went beyond human comprehension to the point only Makkachin would have been able to hear if he could come to events. Yuri’s hands clung to his ears to calm the bells banging around his mind at the sheer force of fanaticism in Minami’s tiny body.

The vibrations in Yuri’s mind finally settled as the stars around him faded back into the standard issue white walled room with a small wooden stage. “Yes, yes. It’s very-“

“Kenjirou Minami!” the microphoned voice interrupted.

“OH! That’s me!!!” Minami exclaimed as he rushed over to the stage. He quickly rummaged through the number and pulled out one, “TEN!!!! Yay!!!!”

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Ice flicked and sputtered as blades slid and curved through the surface of the newly minted Musashina Plaza Sports Arena. The blue painted walls and stadium seats were polished and unchipped, surrounding the rink as a rounded frame while the first group began practice for the competition. Viewers began trickling in and drowning out the blue hues with flushes of various levels of skin tones, clothing colors, scarves, and hats before long. The chatter starting amassing, intruding on Victor’s thoughts as he watched his skater go through the beginning step sequence to Eros.

The beige long coat came bunched at his stomach line along with the vest of his black three-piece ensemble as he hunched over to lean his elbows on the rink wall, scanning over every move and twist Yuri made in his navy Japan jacket and pants. _All of Yuri’s steps and jumps this morning are flawless. But his expression is all off. He’s not acting stressed. Triple axel, quad salchow…he landed them. My heart feels like it could take flight, though. I wonder why?_

Silver metallic blade glided on the outside edge of the left blade as Yuri turned and slid, toe picking before throwing himself into a flip. Four rotations and a clean landing gave a swish sound to his blade as it replanted on the ice. _I can land it. I know I can. But…Eros…how can I seduce Victor more? I always thought about what it could be when I skated. I haven’t skated this since we really started kissing. _

Yuri’s black sequined costume pants sparkled as he glided slightly aimlessly around the rink, losing focus in the remaining three minutes. Memories of the first time Victor revealed the Eros choreography to him at the Ice Castle flooded his mind as he replayed the white pale thick arms weaving around silver strands of hair as he began the dance.

_Eros… Sexual love. Pleasure followed by pleasure. One just drowns in it._

The recollection of Victor’s words as he spun and kicked to the sultry Spanish guitar gave enough of a jolt to Yuri to flush his cheeks a little red. _Victor knew what Eros was when he invented the dance. It’s not just that he’s a genius…he’s experienced. He made the game of seducing him for my imagination. Or, I made it? I became the pork cutlet that became the woman that became…._

“That concludes the six minute warm up for Group 1. All participants please exit the rink.” a woman announcer called over the stadium speakers.

Four other skaters lined up ahead of Yuri to step off the platform off the rink, passing by Victor’s ponderous blue eyes. He handed off the red and blue skate guards to Yuri and waited for him to cover his sharp edges of the blade, trying to find a reason as for Yuri’s stiff demeanor. _Is he worried about the flip?_ He thought, bringing his finger over his mouth as Yuri’s water bottle dribble water over his lips as he tried to quench his thirst. _ That’s it!_

Yuri’s eyes caught the strange blue-eyed stare and felt an awkward tinge seep into his skin, “Why are you looking at me like that?” he wondered, wrapping the cap back on the black bottle.

_I’m curious how his Eros performance will be once he loses his….virtue._

“I just thought about something Chris said.” Victor explained cryptically as a reached for Yuri’s hand to pull him forward through the crowd. _Where’s the closest place with no people? _

_ Clunk, thunk, clunk…_ Yuri’s skated thudded in quick pace behind the outstretched arms of Victor’s pull. Silver hair whipped back and forth as he searched for an empty hallway. _Too much lighting. Too many people. _

“Victor…I’m next…”

The ends of the silver blade guards made an almost chirping noise as Victor pulled Yuri around another hall, turning swiftly past the locker rooms and around another turn. A dark opening a few meters away cast a shadow into the middle of their current hallway, and Victor breathed a sigh of relief. _There. Finally._

_ I might not be able to give Yuri all of that right now…but I can give him something…more. _

“Victor-what-Vic..” Yuri landed up against the wall in the dark hall with a thud as Victor pushed against him with both of his strong hands on either shoulder. The pierce of the gaze of burning blue passion in Victor’s eyes caught Yuri of guard, and he held his breath with a gasp.

Before another word could be uttered, pale soft lips rushed over Yuri’s mouth with a fever. Hands slid from the shoulder to wrap into the black coarse ends, careful not to move too far up into the gelled clack hair. With each pull back and resurgence Victor parted his lips more open, nudging Yuri’s supple mouth wider. The wet groove of a tongue slid across Yuri’s bottom lip, asking for entrance. Victor dipped his head further sideways and dove in, taste buds circling over taste buds as he found Yuri welcoming the new sensation of tongue spinning around his own, fingers drawing his chin forward to deepen the moment. Victor lunged in and pulled back a touch at a time, moving his lips to kiss the edges of Yuri’s mouth where he could, until his lip pulled on Yuri’s tongue in suck as he released to give Yuri a chance for air.

“Vi…Vi…Vi…Victor.” Yuri managed to speak through breathy gasps. He reached to grab at the zipper where his heart was, feeling the jackhammer of a heart thumping faster than almost the speed of sound.

Victor hummed a laugh and leaned into kiss Yuri’s lips gently. “Are you ready to perform now?”

“Yeh-yeh…yeah”

The black curtain parted and the two walked back in just as the first performer received his score.

“79.18…a new personal best…” Yuri heard Mooroka announce overhead. Though, in his still stunned aftershock of Victor’s impromptu French kiss, none of the words really articulated coherently enough outside of his own thoughts.

_Victor’s tongue….was in…_

His fingers came up and brushed against the edge of his bottom lip, still wet from Victor’s mouth. The beige coat swayed into the back of his calf as Victor walked behind Yuri, his arm slung over his shoulder. Yuri nearly stepped onto the perimeter of the ice before Victor yanked him back with a snap.

“Yuri, your blade guards?” Victor tried to withhold a smirk as his pointed down to Yuri’s skates.

“Oh.” Yuri shook his head trying to free his thoughts, his black lashes gleaned in the light ahead as he bent down to remove his skate guards, handing them off to Victor’s open hand.

He finally took the ice and skated a roundabout to get a feel of the rink once more. “Yuri?” Victor said in his soft innocent tone, getting his attention. Flecks of ice kicked up as Yuri came to join Victor on the side of the rink, stopping on his toepick quickly. The warm soft guiding hand that was just around his face in the dark hall earlier cupped around Yuri’s right ringed hand and drew it up to a kiss.

“Next up to the ice is this year’s Grand Prix Final silver medalist, Katsuki Yuri. It seems his coach is raising their rings into another prayer of good luck. Let’s all pray he performs better than last year’s Nationals.”

“Right, Mooroka-san. We’ve seen an amazing season from Katsuki. I can hope he continues his stride straight into this coming year.”

The cold shining gold warmed under Victor’s kiss for good luck. _I don’t just want to kiss the ring for good luck. _Yuri though, bracing himself. He moved his hand from the wet lock of Victor’s lips, catching him off guard. Blue eyes widened, wondering if he did anything wrong. The black stones on Yuri’s arm sleeve shimmered as he brought both arms over Victor’s head to shield the world from the moment. Brown eyes turned a deep burgundy as Yuri’s forehead touched Victors. He moved in for a moment to planting lips on Victor’s releasing to slide his hands around Victor’s neck. Stunned blue eyes looked at his brown eyes and they said the words in their shimmer…_Don’t ever take your eyes off me. _

“I’m off.” Yuri said with a gasp, gliding into the rink to begin to take his spot. His eyes widened and faded, absorbing in the light as he started to take his pose. _ I just wanted to feel those lips one more time. Victor, I want you to know what I’m thinking while I’m out here. _

The strums of the Spanish guitar trickled through the speakers, and Yuri wrapped his arms around himself as he spun out of his beginning pose, licking over his lips.

_I can still feel his tongue on my own. The way his mouth tasted…_

White crystals shimmered in the light as Yuri brought his arms up over his sides and flicked them out as they hit his hips with a snap in time with the quick strikes of the guitar. The violins harmonized over the sultry guitar as Yuri curved into his serpentine step sequence, the gems flowing down his torso making reflective spotlights on the bright ice with each turn and kick out into the air.

_What was the story, again? The playboy turns into a woman who…that’s not right…._

The wind instrument blew it’s tantalizing come hither tune wound around into the next string of violins as Yuri wound his hands in air and over his curves, coming up to clap over his head, continuing his driving step sequence. He came into a death drop for a level 4 sit spin, changing the hold from one skate to the other as he spun.

_I used to be able to picture the way my skating made Victor feel…but I can’t think about anything but how my mouth feels right now…_

As the instruments wove together in song coming to a climax, silver blades scratched along the ice in a forward position at the edge of the rink. His right leg rose behind him as he edged the glide with his left, dipping his knee to bend as he flung himself front facing into the air…

“OOOHHH…step out on the triple axel!” Mooroka announced with a cringe in his voice, “We haven’t seen him miss that jump since Regionals.”

_Shimatta! I can’t believe I did that! Focus! Focus! What would Victor want?_

Blue eyes crinkled in a wince when he saw the landing, but Victor smirked mischievously, putting his finger over his lips. _Maybe tongue kisses are too much for Yuri…but the way he’s moving now…it’s intoxicating. You aren’t just moving to the pictures in your head, are you, Yuri? No, you’re feeling it. _

The pricks of the guitar continued their serenade as the black half skirt ruffled in the wind of his S shape glide, revealing a fluttering of red underneath.

_Victor’s lips. His hands on my hand. His hair touching my cheek. It’s not just the idea of seducing him anymore… _

Blades twisted in time with the music as his thoughts drifted with the weight of his vault spinning him four times, landing, the up another three before the edge of a steady blade caught the ice.

“Quad triple combination from Katsuki Yuri! Very clean!” Morooka cheered on the speakers over the ruckus of the applause almost drowning out the guitar strumming, fusing with the violin in a seductive parallel.

The music kicked up to a fever pitch as Yuri spun and kicked through a connecting step sequence, the air catching through his fishnet side of the costume as he raised his arms over his head and turned into the glide on one bended knee, beckoning his eye’s lust to come forward and claim him.

_Eros isn’t just a story anymore. Eros is Victor…Victor and me…_

“Next up is his coach, Victor Nikiforov’s, signature move. Will he be successful this time?” the announcer spoke as the music came to a crescendo.

Every nerve on his body sent electricity through him, tingling as his mind savored every type of touch Victor had showed him until that moment. He twisted to skate backwards, using the inside edge of his left blade to set up, right toe pick and fly up into the air…

_Victor is the only one who gets to have me. _

…One…Two…three…four….

SHWWWKTSHHH

“SUCCESS!!!! This is Katsuki’s first time landing the flip in his short program. His coach is beaming!!!!” Morooka yelled.

A sapphire blue eye widened as his silver hair flew up in the ecstatic cheer he waved as Yuri landed the quadruple flip. “Perfect. Yurii!!!!!!!!” His eyes narrowed in until only Yuri and the ice were visible as the black shimmering costume glimmered like a thousand diamonds with Yuri’s foot out spin.

Yuri transitioned to the last spin sequence, twirling on foot while the rest of his body outstretched with the spin into an alluring T-shape, the light catching every shining glint on his ensemble. He rounded on his blade to move into the motion when he gestured but ran his arms in a circle with his hands to effectively catch what he was trying to throw.

_I’m not casting Victor away anymore. I’m his._

Before the thoughts could fully form, Yuri stood in the center of the rink with his arms wrapped over his shoulders in his final pose. He panted heavily as his body exploded with the ends of the excitement lingering in his mind.

_ I don’t remember the last few seconds. Oh, I’m finished. The crowd’s applauding. They must’ve liked it. What does Victor think?_

His arms released from his shoulders and he lifted up to wave politely, a flush of embarrassment running across his cheeks as he heard the whistles of several people in the stands, men and women included.

“YUUURRRIIIII!” Victor called, his beige coat dangling around where his arms outstretched to welcome Yuri into a hug. Brown eyes looked behind as his neck turned around at the beckon of the soft enigmatic voice saying his name.

The flush of his cheeks deepened as his spun to skate forward, “Victor!” he said as he lunged into the embrace. Victor spun them around a few times before planting him softly on the ground and returning his guards to him. He draped Yuri’s Japan jacket over his and snaked his arm around Yuri’s waist as they walked to the kiss and cry.

Seated on the black wooden seat Victor kept his hand snugly sitting on Yuri’s waist as they waited for the score to be called. “How did it feel?” Victors smirk dripped with a knowing innuendo, but he waited just like he did in China to see if Yuri caught on.

“It felt…different. I stopped thinking for part of it…” he explained, a sheepish grin settling on his face as he looked down at the towel between his hands, “What did you think of it?”

“I thought it was the best you’ve ever skated, except for the triple axel. Why did you change the ending?”

“Oh…I just didn’t want to throw you away anymore, Victor.” Yuri stated calmly. When he didn’t hear a response, he looked up to find the shocked slack jawed expression on Victor’s face. “Victor?”

_Nine months and he finally got it. _

The announcer came overhead, “The score for Katsuki Yuri is…..103.61” The applause rang out across the stadium as everyone cheered for a worthy score from Japan’s top male skater.

Stiff coat cloth itched against Yuri’s cheek as Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri’s head. “Everyone seemed to like it, too. Can you blame them?” he spoke, the deep sultry voice only audible to the ear his lips touched. He nudged his head a little lower, pressing into the smooth nape of Yuri’s neck. His lips parted just enough to take one slight nibble on the flesh before pulling up to speak back into that now stinging red ear, “I’m finally begin to see your true Eros, Yuri.” Victor unwrapped himself and moved up and off, holding out his hand to help Yuri to stand.

Yuri rubbed his hand over the nape of his neck where he still felt the remnants of teeth marks. The bite was so small and gentle, the idea that any mark occurred was purely psychological, but Yuri couldn’t shake the thoughts in his mind. He spotted Victor’s open palm in the corner of his eye and steadied his mind from the overwhelming tension all of these new sensations were causing him. “Oh, yeah. They’re probably waiting to do interviews.” He said, reaching up for Victor’s hand to pull him through.

The black curtain crinkled as Yuri and Victor walked through, his blades thunking along until he found a bench nearby to sit down. He sat his black and blue duffel down, opening the clasp and pulling the string out to rummage through and pull out his black sneakers with the white lines circling on the side. A quick shuffle of unlacing and replacing later and Yuri rose to his full height, pulling his bag on his shoulder to join Victor next to the gaggle of reporters huddled in the corner.

“…Yuri’s been improving with every skate…” Yuri overheard Victor as he came to join his side. He smiled over at Victor’s heart shape mouth explaining enthusiastically all of the ways in which Yuri improved.

“Katsuki Yuri, how do you feel about your freeskate?” one of the reporters asked.

Yuri thought for a moment before speaking, “Well…um…” he started. He felt Victor arm nudge his shoulder and he calmed, “I definitely hope for another high score!”

“Victor-san, are you excited to compete against Yuri in the upcoming Worlds?”

A gracious smile came over Victor but he held out his hand, “I’m excited, but I’d like to keep the focus on Yuri…”

“So, are the rumors true?” one brave reporter near the back asked.

The tips of Yuri’s cheeks flushed pink, “What…rumors?”

“There’s a few rumors circulating that you plan to join the RSF?”

Victor and Yuri exchanged confused glances, “What?” Yuri began, flailing his arms over his face, “No! I have no plans to leave the JSF.”

“Then are the rumors you are moving to Russia true?” Another overly eager reporter asked.

_Where are they getting this information? We’ve barely told anyone. _“Y-yes? Victor begins training soon. He and I are…he is…” He trailed off, the static of the mics surrounding him made the moment claustrophobic. His mouth went dry but he swallowed and began, “Victor is my coach. I have to go where he is to continue training.” He stated, his voice weakening at the words.

Blue eyes gaped openly for a moment, caught off guard by the words. _Coach. Just coach. Why did my heart hurt to hear him say that? _The rest of the interview faded out in the distance as he heard Yuri answer the perfunctory questions asked after a program. His black dress shoes clicked on the tile floor as Victor walked off to find some semblance of space. _Yuri didn’t say anything wrong. I am his coach. It’s just…the way he started...Ahhh…it doesn’t matter. It was a professional interview. But the way he said the word…_

_Coach…_

_Sounded an awful lot like his voice when he said…_

_After the final, let’s end this. _

“…Arigatou. Thank you all.” Yuri bowed as he turned around, noticing the empty space behind him where a certain black suit wearing clingy silver haired Russian should be. “Victor?” he asked, the ends of his gelled black hair lifting as he spun around to scan the area. _Where’d Victor go? _

Sneakers squeaked as the rubber treaded over the waxed floor while Yuri walked aimlessly looking for where Victor might have run off to. The coffee shop in the entrance of the concession perimeter smelled of roasted chestnuts and Arabic blend coffee beans but not a speck of silver came to sight as Yuri peered over the mass of mostly black-haired heads. The bathroom offered no such results either, nor the locker area or the main entrance for the athletes. Yuri resolved to give up and go back to the arena, hoping Victor might pop up there looking for him instead.

The sound of his name echoing caught Yuri’s attention before he even could reach for the black drape and enter the stage, “YURI-KUN!”

“Min-Minami-kun!” he twanged as he turned to wave.

“I’m almost up. I’m going to show you my Lohengrin, okay? You’ll watch, right?” Minami’s light brown eyes looked like a doe before the sound of a bullet as he started to unzip his matching Japan jacket and reveal his similarly styled costume to what Yuri referred to as his “dark past.”

_I really don’t want to think about my skating from back then, but if I say no what will Victor think? _“S-Sure!” he agreed through clenched teeth.

Minami’s eyes spun in circulating tears of adulation and shock, his body shaking with excitement as he threw his hands into the air. His leg kicked in the dance as he hollered, “YES!!!!”

Before he could say anything else to Yuri, he rushed through the curtain. “Did you hear?? Yuri-kun is going to watch…” Yuri heard as Minami’s voice trailed off to someone he could only assume would be his coach. _He carries so much energy! He probably does a better job than I did, too…_ Yuri thought to himself as he rounded his fingers over the black velvet curtain, beginning to push it back into the fold to open it. White light bounced from above, reflecting on the pristine glasslike surface of the rink and making light daggers into Yuri’s brown eyes. He blinked furiously as he walked in, trying to see through the flashing fark purple, blue, and yellow lights popping around his head like after getting too close to a flash on a camera.

“Next up, from Fukuoka Prefecture, last year’s gold medalist…Minami Kenjirou!” Mooroka’s voice filled the entire arena as he announced the next skater.

The momentary blindness began to dissipate to only a few splotches, leaving Yuri to finally see exactly what area he stood. Eager applauses filled the air with the enthusiasm as people gave their well wishes while Minami nodded to his coach a few times rink side while she gave final instructions. Brown eyes scanned up the bleachers and seats nearby, narrowing closer to his until he looked straight down on the top of a silver hair whorl.

“Victor?” He blanched, realizing Victor hadn’t noticed him either. The pink frame around Victor’s case showed the blue light of a screen as Yuri watched his thumb scrolled through some unrecognizable symbols and English block of text. He read his name, _Yuri Katsuki, _in the mix of words before the screen went black with a click.

A vicious deep blue eye shot into the naïve brown, causing Yuri to retract a step behind himself. _What’s with that look? _“I didn’t know where you went. I told Minami I’d watch his performance.” Yuri explained pitifully, unable to read Victor’s visage as he watched the deep dark flecks of blue lighten to an almost crystalline delight.

“Let’s grab a seat where we can get a better look!” Victor spoke through a smile.

“Oh, okay…” he agreed. Victor rose to his full height and stepped in front of Yuri to lead the way over to the reserved seating. The blue chair bottom folded over as Victor sat, the ends of his coat dangling over the edge in a sway as Yuri joined him in the adjacent seat.

“Minami skates to Lohengrin. He says he wants to make to song his own today as he plans to include a quad in his program.”

Minami’s ensemble glimmered as he made his way to the starting point.

“Ganbatte, Minami-kun!!!” Yuri called. Minami almost stopped on a dime making the shimmers glistened in waves of white, brown, purple, and black as the blonde hair whipped in a spin at the sound of Yuri’s voice.

Victor’s arm waved happily in the air, “Davaiii!!!!..Min…Minaa???” he looked over to Yuri who whispered in his ear, “Oh! Davai, Minami!!!!”

“EEEEEEEEEE…” his fingers grabbed onto his flushed cheeks as Minami let out a delighted squeak, then scrunched his hands together into fists and gave a determined to fight nod before finishing to take his position. The grey tassels fell back down over his black pants as his toe picked down, revealing the detailed artwork of a brown belt and purple shimmering grey crisscross over the white of his top. His brown eyes casted upward, and the ethereal sounds of the wind instruments began.

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Fxkax2nlGo> 08 × Lohengrin : In fernem Land (There’s no real clear indication which song from Lohengrin was used, but I found this on youtube and could imagine Yuri Skating to and Minami recreating it in his own energetic fashion. It would only be about 1:30 of it though.)

Blue eyes watched as Minami starts his crossing step sequence, his finger running over his lips. “Is this how yours was?” he asked, nodding the edge of his silver strands over to Yuri.

“Oh…” he began, trying to dig in the hollow black trenches of his mind to remember dancing to the opera song. “Maybe? His moves are different. I tried not to focus too much on…”

A flash of red bang before Minami line on the edge and threw himself in the air One, two, three…and flop. The blonde skater’s dazzling top skidded on the ice before he jumped up and began a new, his blades guiding back in the serpentine step sequence.

Dark lines went over Yuri’s face in remembering his falls, “No, I’d say they are pretty similar….” He said, putting his hands over his head to shake off the moment. _Keep going Minami! You can finish the rest flawless! You can make this song your own!_ His thoughts moved for a moment as he glanced over at Victor, spotting his jaw tighter than normal even with the same look of happiness on his face.

_I keep thinking I see something. I don’t know what. He’s looking really intently at Minami’s skating. He hasn’t even reached for my hand since we sat down or put his arm over my shoulder. He hasn’t touched me at all…was my kissing bad?_ Yuri huffed inconspicuously into his hand and breathed in. _I smell nothing. _

Victor pulled his forearm back happily as the crowd cheered. “Good! He landed the axel!” he exclaimed, his skin tingling and fluttering as he watched. _Yuri does his axel so beautifully. I need to keep my focus on Minami. Yuri didn’t say anything wrong but my throat runs dry if I think about it._

“What were you reading earlier?” Yuri asked nonchalantly, his eyes still fixed on the performance.

“What?”

“I saw my name on something on your phone, earlier.”

_Now I’m stuck thinking about it. _“Oh, that. I wanted to know where the reporters got the idea about the RSF. It was just some fan speculation.” Victor answered, the tightness in his jaw giving the words a stiffness even if his eyes seemed unaffected. He shuffled in his coat, bringing his hands out to clap alongside the rest of the audience as the cheers roared at Minami’s final pose. _Yuri called me coach. Has he said I was his fiancé? Maybe to the doctor with the reaction he got. But he didn’t want to lie. He didn’t lie at the interview…he just…didn’t say. _

_ He hasn’t said anything. Not out loud…_

“The crowd’s on their feet! A wild applause for skater Minami!” the announcer called.

“Wow!!! That was great! So much energy!!” Victor exclaimed, his voice soft and happy like when he commented on Otabek’s skate at the Grand Prix Final. His bedroom eyes lilted with gracious intrigue as he looked as the dirty blonde hair shaking up in down as he rose his hands and jumped at the praise from the audience. “He really knows how to appeal to fans.”

Feeling the jab in Victor’s words, Yuri shrunk a little where he sat, his hands going into the crux of either arm as he hugged himself. “There’s still twenty other skaters…” he whined.

“That’s twenty more people for you to cheer for!” Victor said, pushing up to stand. “Japan’s top skater can sit back and motivate his fellow competition. That’s an order from your _coach._” Silver strands lifted as he shook the bang’s out of his eye to wink, his hand held up as he pointed his index finger for emphasis.

Yuri eyes widened as his mouth dropped, rendered incapable of producing any words. He watched in a state of confused exasperation as Victor’s body disappeared behind the curtain.

“The score for Minami Kenjirou is…80.21. A new personal best for Minami!” Mooroka announced excitedly.

_Victor is acting stranger than usual. I can’t remember when it started. Is he mad I flubbed the axel? He said something about Minami’s…He shouldn’t be mad about the jump, it’s his fault since he got me so…and I scored better than the final, anyways. He said he could finally see my true Eros…does he want to see more? _

_._

_._

_._

_._

One ice rink, forty blades, and twenty skaters later the short program competition ended with Yuri still in the lead. The gel in his black hair had mostly disintegrated at this point, leaving clumps of crunchy hard lines as Yuri ran his fingers through, trying to pad back the escaping spikes. Tired eyes caught the reflection of the hotel door handle as he inserted and pulled the keycard, releasing the lock with a click.

The silence of the room left Yuri with an unsettled churning of his stomach. He shut the door gingerly, not wanting to disturb Victor is he had fallen asleep and peeled out of his coat, placing it on a hanger in the closet by the door. His foot stepped on the back of his heel to climb out of his shoe, following with his toes on the other one. The back shimmers of the Eros costume dancing in the sunlight, turning Yuri into a disco ball as he spun to find the hidden zipper and free himself of the piece since he didn’t bother changing at the arena.

Freed from the confines of black bedazzled elastic, Yuri tip toed to the edge of the short hallway, peeking over the edge with barely the top of his brown eyes showing. The bed lay empty. The clean white comforter covered the bed with the accuracy only mastered by hotel personnel, perfectly straight.

_Oh, Victor’s not here. Where’d he go? _Yuri thought, sinking his underwear clad backside onto the edge of the bed. He thumbed on the side of his phone in his hand and pulled up the home screen. The blue light reflected in his brown eyes as he scrolled through SMS, looking at the various photos.

_Hmm…Yurio’s at Russian Nationals… he and Georgi should be competing soon. Phichit’s back in Thailand…I wonder when his Nationals are?...JJ’s making wedding plans?_

_ Where’s Victor?_

Clicking out of one social media and into the next one twittering away on the different small messages and rants over things, Yuri gave up trying to search his partner out on the internet. He stared at the small poodle on his home page, eyes dripping at the thought of losing his dog before he ever got to see him again. His eyes caught the date: 23 December. _Oh, it’s almost Christmas, Victor’s birthday. _He leaned back on the bed and held his right hand out towards to ceiling, staring at the glimmer of gold on his ring finger. _Victor said they don’t celebrate Christmas in Russia. We don’t really, either. Not like in America. Tomorrow is a day for couples in Japan. Everyone who has someone will be out on a…_

With a flash and a snap Yuri sat back upright, his feet planting on the floor with an oomph for emphasis. He grabbed his phone, searching through his contact until he landed on the name: ヴィクトル (Victor)

[I’m at the hotel. Are you coming?]

Yuri looked at the test after he hit send. Immediately, his cheeks turned a deep crimson and he started texting again.

[Back*. Are you coming back soon?]

.

.

.

.

The wind twirled the silver strands of hair upward as Victor pulled the door open to the hotel lobby. He pressed the side of his phone to turn the screen on, unlocking it and stifling a laugh as he looked back at the text messages on his phone. A circular profile photo showed a photo of himself and Yuri with Yuri’s silver medal. His arm was on Yuri’s waist with his Yuri on Ice ensemble still on. Victor held Yuri’s purple lilac bouquet in his hand as Yuri put his other arm over his shoulder.

_I love that photo. _

His smiled slanted upwards and his eyes wandered adoringly as he felt a buzz in his hand, adding to the rest of the conversation.

[😉Probably. Why?]

[Just…I just want you.]

[see you.]

[I want to see you]

[Okay, sure. I’ll see you in about an hour]

[okay!]

[Are you back?]

[In the lobby]

He typed and hit send stowing his phone away in his pocket as he made his way down the hall. _Yuri and I don’t usually text. Maybe that’s why he seems more insistent. No matter what, he’s piqued my interest. _

The door opened before Victor had a chance to put in his keycard, leaving him with his hand in midair and confused. Brown spikey hair poked out the edge of the door, followed by the blue rim of glasses until deep brown eyes showed through, the tip of a button nose dipping to look down towards the floor.

_I’ve spent all day thinking about what Yuri said. I didn’t think I’d come back to an open door. _

A heart shaped mouth beamed enthusiastically, “Wow! Were you waiting for me?” he mused.

Yuri scratched the back of his neck, still damp from his shower earlier. He wore a more casual black pants and shirt with two buttons on the top, but still not his usual green shorts and random t shirt. “Uhm…yeah…” he started.

The taupe coat fluttered as Victor tore out of it, hanging it in the closet. The silk black tie shined against the light as pale fingers worked to loosed it at the knot, bringing it around his head as he stepped forward into the hotel room. He noticed Yuri’s laptop on the bed, with two white boxed packages. “What’s this, Yuri?” he asked, going over to examine the things on the bed as he unbuttoned his vest, he noticed a bag of drinks by the side of the bed, one of them looking like his favorite sochu. 

“Oh…well, umm… I…tomorrow is Christmas Eve. And in Japan that’s a day for…lovers.” Yuri brought his hands together to poke at the tips of his soft fingertips.

Victor lifted the circular white bucket, revealing crisped and breaded pieced of chicken. “Lovers of fried chicken?” he asked, quirking a silver brow.

Palms extended outward as Yuri flailed in front of face, blurring his sight, “No, no- that’s just traditional Christmas food. We probably couldn’t even get any is we went out tomorrow and we will be at the competition and then the flight and….” His palms heated quickly with contact of his bright rouge cheeks as he held his head in embarrassment.

Sapphire blue eyes turned to a soft watery blue. Victor’s mouth hung open in curiosity, but he drew the side of his mouth into a grin. “Yuri…is this…a date?” he asked.

Black spikes swayed up and down as Yuri nodded in acknowledgement into his hands. “I didn’t know when you’d be back.” He spoke through his fingers, “I thought we could watch something on my laptop since there doesn’t seem to be anything worth watching on television…I know it’s not something out like you did bu-“

Fingers wrapped around Yuri’s hands and pulled them away, lacing them into Victors. Silver hair trickled over Yuri’s forehead as Victor nuzzled his nose against Yuri’s cheek, “You surprised me. It’s perfect!” Victor’s lips lingered as he pressed them gingerly on the top of Yuri’s head, “I’m going to change out of these clothes. Want to find something for us to watch?”

A gasp of happiness and relief exploded from Yuri’s mouth, as his eyes danced and sparkled in the joy of surprising Victor, “Yeah!” he exclaimed, watching Victor move off to gather his clothes, shirking out of his white button up dress shirt before neatly folding it on the other side of his luggage before slipping off into the bathroom.

Yuri sat down on the bed with one knee crossed over as the other dangled off the end. He pulled his silver laptop on his lap, pulling up the browser to search through titles of movies and shows available. “Is there any type of show you like?” he called out, trying to be heard over the faucet water splashing.

A click of the door and Victor came out, his grey sweats clinging on the edge of his. “Is this okay?” he asked, wondering if it was necessary, he put a shirt back on. Brown eyes shifted from his computer screen flicking up to see the sheen of light making Victor’s toned chest glisten softly over every intention of muscle. Yuri’s face flushed but he shook his head yes, flicking his eyes down, staring at the screen in front of him more intently. Victor’s pale feet barely swished with sound as he rounded past the desk and over to where Yuri was situated on the bed, moving to sit behind him. Strong arms wrapped over Yuri’s shoulders, drawing him backwards with him as he scooched to the back of the headboard, allowing Yuri to sit comfortably against his chest. “What were you saying?” he purred against Yuri’s ear, looking at the screen ahead of him.

Clear sticky beads of sweat formed on the top of Yuri’s forearm, his body tingling in a batch of nerves and anticipation. The thumping in his chest pounded until his ears became the bass speakers in a rock concert, almost drowning out Victor’s question. “Oh, umm..” he swallowed to get the dryness in his throat quenched, “I don’t know what you like to watch.”

“I don’t really either.” Victor huffed a laugh. “I don’t remember the last movie I saw.”

“Hmmm…me either. I’ve been so focused on skating I didn’t really watch anything.”

“Mhm.”

Yuri’s heart sank. “Uhmmmm…we could see how Russian Nationals are going?”

“Sure!” Victor pulled a piece of chicken from the bucked and tore into it, his blue eyes perking up with the bite, “VKUSNO!”

“Right?” Yuri’s nerves started to settle with the happy sounds of indulgence as Victor’s grease smeared mouth laughed and smiled at the next bite. He reached in and grabbed a piece at random, settling to nibble on the drumstick and type in the search bar to find a livestream for Russian Nationals.

To their dismay, none of the streams connected fluidly enough to make watching worthwhile. Yuri groaned, his head bumping into Victor’s chest behind him, thumping forward as Victor’s chest jiggled with an amused laugh. Soft fingers trailed through black threads of hair, pushing them back off of Yuri’s forehead. “It looks like Yurio just went anyways… 107… respectable score. With his final performance I would have expected higher.” Victor said. “Georgi might still have a chance.”

_That’s right, Yurio broke Victor’s short program score by two points. _

“Maybe he’s not taking it as seriously since you aren’t there.” Yuri pointed out.

“Mhm…he should fight harder if he wants to keep his records at Worlds.” Victor’s voice strained as he reached to the side of the bed, blindly fumbling to catch the bottle he saw down there earlier and failing. He put his arm back up and draped it over Yuri’s shoulder, “Now… what did you have in mind to do?”

The bright light on the laptop screen seemed blank with answers as Yuri looked at it as though it might scream something out through the speaker. “I can check the television. They might have something.” He suggested, reaching behind and noticing the bottle on the floor. “Oh, here, I got this for you.” He said, lifting the bottle up to the table as he pulled out a clear plastic cup with it and handed the plastic over to Victor, “It’s Kome-jochu Honkaku Shochu, one of the rice shochu made in Kyushu. I found it at the place I got the Christmas cake from.” He explained, retrieving the remote from the nightstand and twisting back around to reposition himself on Victor’s chest, feeling at ease enough to settle his shoulders against the pale torso as well. 

“What’s a Christmas cake?” Victor wondered, his fingertips latching around the neck of the green class bottle as he lifted it to look at the label, though none of the symbols meant anything to him.

“Oh!” Yuri folded his laptop and set it on the ground next to the bed. His black shirt wrinkled as he rewound, turning to unstring the small white box and unveil the contents therein. He lifted so Victor could see the small four inch in diameter cake lathered in white frosting, the edges creased with a white icing, and a circulating design of plump bursting red strawberries dusted with powdered sugar in the center. “It’s filled with crème and strawberry. People say it’s like strawberry shortcake in America.”

“Wow! It’s beautiful.” Victor exclaimed. The blue in his eyes darkened, brimming the ends with a navy. _I’ve been wondering how Yuri felt all day after the interview... _

A pink hue surfaced across Yuri’s cheek as he set the box aside and started flipping through the channels on the on the black flatscreen television. Snap flashes of a vibrantly colored games show transitioned into a news report and then a strange detective anime. The images lasted a few seconds before Yuri’s fingers pressed the up button on the remote, seeing an older looking film on the next channel. He paused, trying to remember the where he saw the shot of the man on screen before, “Oh…_ N__inja Hichō Fukuro no Shiro_!” He said excitedly.

“What’s that?”

“An old Ninja movie my dad and I used to watch. I don’t know if there are subtitles but the movie has a lot of-“

“Ninjas!” Victor yelled with enthusiasm, reaching for the glass of Shochu he poured himself while Yuri twiddled through the channels and lifting the cup into the air. He pursed his lip as he brought the clear plastic rim to his lips and took a sip, “It’s really good!”

A smile swam over Yuri’s face as he finally felt content with the night’s progression. His back smushed into Victor’s chest, stretching his legs out as Victor’s secured his on either side. His fingers grabbed at the white comforter and pulled it over the both of them as Victor pulled his free arm to wrap around the front of Yuri’s collar bones and hold him in place as they relaxed into their night of Ninja movies and fried chicken.

Three glasses and thirty minutes drove by as the room filled with the sweet scent of the rice shochu mixed with the faint hint of grease and chicken. Without any subtitles, Victor drew his attention to the action on the screen and the warmth of Yuri laying against him. _ He’s okay when we are alone. Is Yuri still nervous? It’s not even that he isn’t responsive in public… he just hasn’t said anything. I thought telling him I loved pork cutlet bowls would help him realize I loved him… I know he’s not a forward person but…_

With the movie in an intense scene, Yuri tilted his head upward to try explaining the scene. The words caught in his throat when he saw the same clenched jaw and distant look writing a letter in another language. His brows furrowed together as he sought for any piece of the jagged puzzling expression to appear solvable, but found none. “Are you upset or something?” Yuri managed to ask.

Blue eyes twitched and met Yuri’s brown eyes, catching a huff at the thought. “Me? No, I’m not upset.” He said unconvincingly.

“Wait…yes you are!’ Yuri’s voice heightened in retort.

“I’m not!” Victor recanted stiffly. He turned his gaze back to the screen, hearing the exasperated sigh of his fiancé as he sunk further down on his chest. _I’m not mad at Yuri. I don’t want to frustrate him. This is my issue. Yuri didn’t say anything wrong. He didn’t say anything! _

A few more scenes dissolved through a series of action sequences and fight maneuvers as they watched in silence. Victor tried to ignore the nagging voices inside his mind replaying the night he decided to stay in Yuri’s life forever only for him to tell Victor they should end things. _I told him before it was okay. I don’t want to dwell on it. I know he’s not leaving. That’s not it. It’s like when we were on the beach last May. So much has changed since then. I just want to know…._

“Yuri…”

“Mhm?” Yuri tilted his head back to gain a better view of Victor’s expression.

The ends of his black hair tickled over Victor’s bare chest and he shuddered at the feeling. The lids of his blue eyes drew to an almost close, the curve of his long grey lashes framing the very slip of blue still visible. “Who am I to you now?” he asked, bringing his hand to stroke the back ends of Yuri’s hair.

Caught off guard, Yuri coughed a choke up and sat up straighter on the bed to gain his breath. “Oh, uhm…” he started, looking for any true word to describe who Victor was to him. His eyes darted down to the gold band and he smiled. “You’re Victor.” He clarified.

“But who is that now?” Victor prodded. The anguish of trying to coax any type of direct word leaving an anxious bead of sweat under his brow.

Brown eyes stared at him, completely bewildered at what exactly Victor wanted as an answer. He turned on his knees to face him better, the red face of being flustered drawn on him as his anxiety rose. “You’re still my Victor! I told you I didn’t want you to change who you we-“

“I know!” Victor snapped furiously. His eyes skated down to the floor on the side as he drew in a breath. “I know…” he said calmly, reaching for Yuri’s hand to take his ringed hand and kiss the gold.

_He still doesn’t realize that his love changed me. He’s the brightness in my world. I was happy when he said he wanted me to just be Victor. I’m still Victor, but the Victor who loves Yuri. If he’s not ready to say it, then I’ll just keep my mouth shut and wait for him to say it in his own way. _

“Yuri, let’s have some of the Christmas cake!” Victor stated, placing Yuri’s hand back in his lap and reaching for the container that held the cake. Once procured, he tilted the lid and picked a berry off of the top, holding it out for Yuri to take a bite. The entire conflict seemed irrelevant as brown eyes crossed at the point of the small end of the red succulent strawberry. He gargled a swallow and leaned forward, his eyes intent on the blue ones fixated on him. Supple lips slid over the top of the berry, the juice melting into Yuri’s mouth as he bit down. The bits of saliva and berry juice running down Victor’s fingers as Yuri’s lips tugged entirely accidentally on the end of Victor’s thumb and index where he held the berry in place.

A giggle expelled through the pale shining lips as Victor tussled his silver strands back, bringing the other end of the strawberry to his own mouth to finish, never moving his eyes from Yuri as his finished the strawberry. “It’s really good.”

His low sultry voice left Yuri wondering if he meant the strawberry or something else. Victor’s intense gaze left the energy and inhibitions drowning under the needs seeping into his body. _I think I could get drunk just looking at him. _Yuri thought, noticing the frosting under Victor’s lip. Without thinking, he reached his thumb up to wipe the bit of frosting off, sliding on his knees into the opening he had just been sitting in.

“You…have some frosting…there…” Yuri spoke, dragging his finger underneath Victor’s lip to smudge away the white sticky icing. He pulled his hand away to find a napkin but felt a pause as Victor grabbed his wrist. Yuri froze as his thumb went into Victor’s mouth, his lips enveloping the thumb whole as his tongue swirled on the tip to lick the frosting.

Half-lidded blue eyes pierced daringly at Yuri’s wide gaping stare, feeling the pulse rise in the number of thumps against his hand as he still held Yuri’s wrist. “Thanks.” Victor purred, releasing his thumb from his mouth and setting his wrist free.

If there was a way in which a person’s color could drain from their face and simultaneously commence all as the deepest shade of crimson flush to ever exist on a pair of cheeks, Yuri embodied that motif. His face and ears appeared wind-burnt as he sat slack jawed and still between Victor’s thighs. All his thought and blood flow focused on his still damp thumb plopping on his lap and the waiting grin on Victor’s face like the day he told Yuri they should first build a relationship of “trust.”

With a snap, Yuri turned around and planted himself back down into Victor’s lap where he had been before. “We should finish the movie…” He brought his knees up and hugged his arms around himself as he inwardly cursed to himself. _What was I thinking? I don’t know how to do eros off of the ice! _

The movie rolled to credits, fading to more words Victor couldn’t read. “Neh, Yuri…the movie’s over.” He nudged his arm at a limp elbow, raising it enough for Yuri’s arm to flop on his thigh. Black hair shifted as Victor brushed some of the strands off of Yuri’s closed lids, seeing his mouth open and a puddle appearing on his chest. _Oh, he’s asleep. How cute! _He meandered the remote out of Yuri’s still fingers and switched the television off before moving to place the leftover food down on the floor next to the drinks. Victor stretch his pale arm to flick off the light and settle back into the mattress, put his arms over Yuri’s shoulder until they clasped over his heart.

“Vi-Vict…” Yuri’s voice gasped in barely a whisper.

Not sure if he heard his name, he opened an eye and looked down for any movement, whispering, “Yuri?” _I’m sure I heard him say my name. Is he okay?_

Yuri’s deep inhales and exhales of slumber became slightly ragged as he twitched in his sleep, “Vic-Vi-Vi-Victor…I luh…luh” His voice sang shallowly into the silence.

Victor sat up straighter, adjusting his eyes to the dark. He looked down at the still figure in front of him. Eyes shut, deep somber breaths, his weight bearing over Victor like a slab. Everything seemed like Yuri’s normal sleeping. Again, his leg kicked out and shoulder flung upwards and he sighed heavily….”Vi-ngggghh….Victor.”

_Is he dreaming? Is he dreaming that type of dream? _Victor lifted up the blanket to see the shadow of Yuri’s legs rubbing together, toes making the mound on top of the comforter move as he flexed his foot. _Oh Yuri… I want to make this better for you… _Victor rubbed the top of Yuri’s head gently, careful not to rock him awake in his stare. He pulled his leg free to stand on the side of the bed. He forearms went under Yuri’s head and knees, lifting him just enough to deposit him smoothly a little further on the side of the bed. Grey sweatpants fell on the floor as Victor shed his last piece of clothing before climbing gingerly in the bed, moving only enough to lay on his side next to Yuri’s slumbering and still twitching ever so often frame.

Pale fingers strummed over Yuri’s cheek as Victor leaned on his propped elbow and watched his fiancé drift through rem sleep. Lips puckered and pressed on the cheek as his hand went to thumb over Yuri’s arm. A string of a windy whisper blew against the smooth face, “I love you, Yuri.” Silver tufts of hair flopped on the pillow as Victor’s hand went to rub soothingly on under Yuri’s shirt, feeling over the silky-smooth skin until he too drifted to sleep.

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The number one spot won in the short program meant the freeskate placement of last up on the roster to skate. Morning practice spun like a regular time at the Ice Castle in Hasetsu with Yuri focusing on maintaining the momentum of his difficulty level he perfected at the grand prix final.

A few other skaters filtered in and out of the locker room, the heavy door creaking with each push and pull. _Only three people left until I go up. _Yuri thought, the iridescent jewels sparkling as he shrugged the blue and mesh ornately patterned suit jacket over his purple body suit. The blue costume pants were already secured around his waist with the belt, making the suit complete as he flattened out the ends of his jacket. Swirls of dazzling blues and purple caught his eye in the changing stall’s mirror, and he tilted his gave to examine himself in the mirror, noting the joining of his gold ring in the spectacle before him.

_Man, I can’t believe I fell asleep last night. I wanted to surprise Victor, too. I guess I did, but… Today is actually Christmas Eve. I know what I was thinking when I got Victor that ring. I just can’t put everything I feel into words. There’s so much I have to be thankful to Victor for giving me. Coaching. Inspiration. Passion. Joy. Eros…._

Deep heaving breaths stopped as Yuri held all the air left in him and shook his head. He reached for his athletic Japan jacket and pulled it over his arms, zipping it up with a burst. Pushing through the locker door, he turned down the hallway and went to the room quarantined for athletes. The room shuffled with coaches and skaters clunking skates and speaking various terms of joy and despair as they discussed their different scores, falling to a hush as the gelled black hair and burning determination brown eyes clomped through to find a place to sit and lace up his skates.

“There you are!” Victor exclaimed. His grey suit swayed with his hips as he stepped in steady paces over to the bench Yuri occupied, “You’ll be up in two. Nationals in Tokyo has been very exciting. I’ve been to Tokyo several times over the years but this is my first time as a coach! I thought that yesterday while wondering around…” his words became smothering in an abrupt embrace as Yuri stood, tackling his arms over Victor’s black coat, and squeezing his shoulders as hard as he could. Victor mumbled a few astonished sounds between gasps, feeling a soft kiss against his cheek.

“Arigatou, Victor. For everything.” Yuri spoke into his cheek, almost mimicking the way Victor had the night before.

_Did Yuri hear me? I thought he was lost in his dream about me. He didn’t seem embarrassed this morning. _“Yuri, do you remember anything after you fell asleep?” Victor asked, stepping back to look into Yuri’s eyes for answers.

“No? Did I do something foolish, again?!? I didn’t drink anything, I swear! I just…felt…I just fell asleep! I’m sorry!”

“Yuri…you didn’t do anything.”

“Why did you ask, then! Is this a test?” Yuri’s frantic pitch started to crack. _What did I do? Does this have to do with his mood yesterday? I can’t always tell. _

Two palms cupped the sides of Yuri’s face, pulling his nose to meet the tip of Victor’s. “Yuri. Calm down. I’m not testing you. I want you to skate your best with a clear mind, that’s all.” Victor felt Yuri’s shoulder muscle relax as he breathed a release of the tension. Victor held up the light brown Makkachin plush tissue box between them, “Makkachin’s here, too! He loves Yuri!”

Yuri retrieved a tissue from the box and expelled his nostrils to clear his sinuses from the well of impending run if Victor hadn’t stopped the tears. The black armhole rested its fabric on the top of Yuri’s back as Victor snaked his arm over to hold him, walking them both to through the curtain to the rink.

“Minami Kenjirou just scored 180 on his freeskate! He’s currently in first place!” Mooroka’s voice boomed overhead just slightly louder than Minami’s squeal of excitement. “Next up, representing the Kyushu prefecture, Katsuki Yuri!”

The blue suit reflected on the ice, catching Yuri’s eyes for a moment as he stared downward. _The first thing Victor said when he saw me in this was that I looked the most beautiful. Have I ever said that to him? _

“Yuri.”

“Hm?”

“There’s no reason you can’t win gold out there.” Victor said, the blue in his eyes dancing an ombre of light to dark as he looked intently at Yuri.

“Right… It’s just I wanted to say…”

“The time for Katsuki to enter his pose in the rink is coming to an end” the announcer said overhead.

“Well?” Victor asked, wondering what was taking him so long. Brown eyes dashed to the side and he sprung from the wall, gliding forward on his blades with his arms extended to welcome the well wishes and cries from the crowd as he took his starting position.

_Yuri, what are you thinking? Show me. _

Yuri’s pale hands cupped underneath the loop that tied the ends of his jacket together as he dipped his head down solemnly.

“Katsuki Yuri declared this season the season of love with his program: Yuri on Ice. He aims to show the many different ways he loves.” Mooroka reported as the beginning notes threaded over one another, stitching the beginning small step sequence as the tale of Yuri fighting alone unfolded on the ice. Black gelled hair gleaned into the light as Yuri lifted his head upward, raising his arms with them.

_I’m supposed to be thinking of all the types of love I feel. Right now, I can only think of one type of love…_

_ ...Victor…._

“Quadruple toe loop, double toe loop! Perfect execution!” Moorka called as Yuri’s skate swished into the landing, thrusting him forward into a circular step, kicking and spinning until he spun with a foot out.

_…Victor… ever since I put that ring on your finger…no, even before then…_

“Quad salchow! Katsuki’s success rate has improved tremendously on that jump this season.” Yuri dipped into a standing spin, whirling with complete accuracy and poise, showing off his grace as his wound and dove into the set up for the next jump. “Triple flip! Beautiful!”

The weaving piano notes traveled over one another and transitioned into their deep lull as Yuri extended his arms outward like a bird who just learned how to fly, tilting his head back to feel the momentum of the air as his silver blades took him further into the depths of his love.

_There’s a word that I kept thinking of, that day on the beach… __踏み込む… __It’s said fumikomu…but there’s nothing in English that can it really translates to so I can’t really tell Victor. Opening up is about the best I could come up with…but, it means more than that. _

Yuri’s leg extended backwards, transitioning from the outside eagle and into the beautiful ina bauer as he wound upward and pushed out, slinking across the rink with precision.

“Triple Axel. Good landing. Earning higher marks for difficult entry. His next jump is a quadruple toe loop. He makes the jump! Perfect landing. He’s showing no signs of fatigue.”

_Every time Victor opened up and let me in, I got to see a little more of him. I wasn’t afraid to let him in anymore, and he saw all of me. He said love was the best theme to skate to. I told him everything. I showed him my love over and over…_

“Triple axel, single loop, triple toe loop combination. Another success! The crowd is going wild but Katsuki seems too encompassed in his love to hear it!”

_He told me I show him more than I ever say. I know this. He’s never asked me to say anything. Not in those words…_

The heightened piano pitched on the stem of his triple lutz, triple toe loop combination, earning him an awed applause as his skate landed on the edge and he slid forward, turning and twisting through his choreographed step sequence as he raised his hands over his head.

_I told everyone in the first interview I deliberately decided to call this bond love. But I haven’t told him. He didn’t even know what was said. Victor, I’ve showed you on the ice, I told you with the ring, I asked you to stay by me and never leave…_

_ There’s a word Victor, I wanted to say but couldn’t. I don’t just think this is a bond without romance, but beyond it. Victor…you…me….it’s not just “other things” like I said that night… you knew it…that’s why you proposed when I couldn’t_

_ …we’re soulmates. _

“That’s a perfect quad flip! You’re seeing the record-breaking level performance here today!”

The crescendo of violin and piano drifted to the final notes as Yuri went into a change spin, twirling down before rising up to pull his right ringed hand over his heart and throw his other gently outward, meeting the blue eyes with the tip of his index across the ice.

Floods of knowing tears escaped Victor’s eyes from pure joy as he raced to the entrance of the kiss and cry. His black coat extended like a curtain as he approached the opening, “YUUUUURI! Perfect!” he called, reaching his arms out for the normal embrace.

The cries and ecstasy of the crowd’s roars combed over the attempt for words as Yuri slid into the arms.

“Victor…I have something I need to-“

Rubber guards snapped into his hands as Victor jumped enthusiastically, “Yuri, that was such a great performance! What was different?”

“Victor I…” Yuri started again, only to be cut off by another round of applause as his quad flip replayed on the screen behind him.

Victor pushed to help Yuri stand, “We need to get to the kiss and cry before you get mobbed!” he mused happily.

The anxiety of the wait at the kiss and cry left Yuri lost for words. He looked down and tapped his skate nervously clinking like the sound of a pen tapping on a desk. Victor glanced over his athlete and tried to bring soothing words, “Yuri, your performance was absolutely perfect. You’ll get a good-“

“I know!” he flinched upward and saw the dazed look in Victor’s blue eyes from the sudden snap. _I can’t take it anymore. _He turned into face Victor squarely, a resolute gleam in his brown eyes flooding outward. “Victor I….I…”

“The score for Kasuki Yuri is….”

“VICTOR! I LOVE YOU!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 On L words: Life

Chapter 7

“It seems that Katsuki Yuri’s score left Coach Nikiforov stunned. He hasn’t moved since we announced the score.”

Crinkled flesh expanded and released, blanketing over blue iris’s and uncovering them several times. The blinking continued a few more times before the soft hand pressing on black dress pants awoke Victor from his stupor. “I missed the score.” He stated, looking over to the television and squinting passed the bright white ice reflecting light into his eyes to see the numbers… 218.41. The edges of his mouth bowed in an elated heart shaped smile as he clapped enthusiastically. “Yayyy!!!!” Victor mused, reaching up to hug a still frozen Yuri. He crossed his arms over Yuri’s shoulders and drew the frame into his own. “You’re the best I could ever ask for!”

Claps and cheers set a vocal blaze throughout the arena continuing in waves of cries as the announcer called overhead, “This commences the Japanese Nationals, please wait for the victors to begin the medaling ceremony momentarily.”

“Oh, Yuri…we need to get going… they’re going to call your name in a few minutes!” Victor released his hands and stood, his black dress shoes clacking on the blue floor as he walked away.

Brown eyes watched the black coat and silver hair disappear into the crowd as he still sat on the edge of the black kiss and cry bench. _Did I say it wrong? He acted like I didn’t say anything. _“Victor?”

“Yuri-kun? Are you alright? Aren’t you excited?” Minami asked, his light brown eyes looking down on him from the edge of the kiss and cry.

“Huh? Okay?”

“I’m okay since I got beat by you! I might qualify for Four Continents, though! I get to fight you again there!!!!!” Minami mused, spinning on his guarded toe pick as his red, yellow and black asymmetrical costume glittered against the spotlights. He reached for Yuri’s arm to drag him to his height, “Come on!!! You won gold!!!! They will be calling our names soon.”

_Oh, I won, huh? _

The ladies’ senior medalists gave their last thanks and bows to the crowd before skating off to the joining side of the rink. Yuri watched from the side, standing tallest behind Minami and another skater in front of him Yuri didn’t recognize. “That’s your Women’s Division champions…Now for your Men’s Nationals Champions! Bronze medalist….”

_Victor should be here! Baka! Did he hear what I said and leave? He told me he felt that way since Sochi -- Why when I said did he…._

A jolt wrenched in his spine as he felt his leg give out under him. “What--?” he fumbled to catch his stance as he looked down to find Victor on bended knee pulling off his blade guard. Silver hair treaded over on blue eye as Victor put down one leg and switched to lift the other guard off.

“There! Now you can get your gold medal!” he said, tilting his head to one side and giving his token childish grin.

“Japan’s men’s gold medalist….Katsuki Yuri!!!!” The roars of the audience reached a crescendo at the call of their gold medalist. Adulations and expressions of their pride matched with the tears and screams as Yuri lifted a hand to wave as he pushed out to the center of the rink.

_I may have won this before…but like everything…with Victor…it’s different. I don’t even know my score. This is my first gold medal I won for Victor. I don’t have time to think about if he heard me or not. _

Yuri wore pride with a grace and calm that looked as warrior winning a well fought battle. His smile drew the bliss he felt while his brown eyes remained pensive and tranquil. The head of the JSF walked along the red carpet in front of him, gesturing him to bow. He bent graciously accepting the circular medal disk as her nimble fingers placed the lanyard around Yuri’s neck.

The announcements flew overhead as he waved out to the crowd one final time before turning to step off of the platform and skate back rink side. The glee of getting to present a gold medal to Victor hung on his ear to ear smile as well as his eyes could barely stay open over the height of his cheek. The swooshing sound of blades on ice made the final course as he stepped up to the side and found a bursting with pride and exuberant cheer framed by ear length silver strands. He took the bladeguards extended out to him and placed them frantically over his silver blades.

“By the way, Yuri, what did you say earlier?

“Hah?!?!?!” Yuri’s black hair whipped as he snapped his head up to see Victor with a genuine expression of interest. His knee bent upwards as he balanced with flamingo like precision to slip the other guard on.

“You yelled something at me in Japanese…”

_I said it in Japanese!!!!??????_

“…..It was something like…. DYA SUCHI…”

_I told him dai suki da yo… _Yuri lifted the lanyard from over his head and looked at it.

“…something…. I couldn’t understand it. But you were really serious. Were you upset with me? I’m not…” Victor’s rambling halted as the gold medal disk flaunted before his eyes.

“_Dai suki da yo… _is what Japanese say when they mean I love you.” Yuri’s voice trembled a little on the words as he replied. Victor’s pale lips stopped in mid pucker against the medal.

Glints of gold caught the reflective light and gleaned over as the lanyard swayed where blue eyes opened wide and gaping. Victor’s thought the world froze entirely for a moment as he processed the words. His silver hair flipped forward as his dipped his head down, holding for a second before snapping upward with a look of certainty cast over him. His hands snatched the lanyard with a fist and dragged it along with Yuri into his chest. Yuri’s forearms planted deep and hard into the breast of Victors chest as he wrapped his pale arms around as much of Yuri as he could possibly cling to.

“Viiiic-Victor, what?” Yuri’s voice filtered between scared and confused, commencing in a high-pitched squeak as Victor trapped him in a fast embrace. The answer came in the form of shining lips coaxing forward to meet his own, holding the intensity of the moment in the force of the press.

“_Ya tozhe tibya liublyoo” _Victor purred against his lips, his Russian accent thick and sticking to every syllable as his eyes sparkled with adoration looking into Yuri’s brown eyes.

“What?”

“I love you, too. Yuri.”

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Starlight twinkled through the almost ceiling to floor windows of the Narita Airport, catching the reflection of two weary but still happily lacing their fingers together travelers. Each drug behind them a suitcase with a duffel secured on the top. Yuri’s burnt orange luggage with Ice Castle stickers plastered on it shook over the tile lines as they made their way through the waves of people jostling their individual bags.

“Aeroflot should be this way.” Victor gestured with an index finger diagonally over passed the giant board with a black screen, flashing different colored kanji words for arrivals and departures. The sign was positioned high above the gates, with white umbrella shaped tiles underneath for each way to come and go, partitioned by grey steel bars the width and height of a normal door entryway.

Brown eyes squinted through the blue framed glasses, trying to read for their flight, “Sherem-Sherrrr…” Yuri tried to pronounce again, apparent that his accent couldn’t grasp the enunciation properly even after Victor made him say it ten times at Rostelecom.

Victor cackled into his green scarf, the grey of his sweatshirt billowing out as his core tightened and released into the laugh, “Sheremetyevo, Yu-ri! Wow! I can’t believe I’m actually going back to St. Petersburg!” he mused excitedly, the tiredness fading to a new burst of energy as he raised his hand palm out in exclamation. His black tennis shoes scratched across the clear and shining floor, his pace quickening to the sound of his musings. “I’ll be able to show you the rink tomorrow…Maybe we can go to the Nevsky Prospekt and find some things you like for the flat. You’d like that, right? Neh, Yuri?”

Before any words could come from the exhausted, bundled mass trying to juggle all the luggage since Victor spun off on his excited ramblings without them, Yuri heaved an exasperated sigh, trying to catch his breath. “Victor…slow down… I… can’t…carry….everything…”

“But there’s also a lot of historical sights, too! And palaces! Have you ever seen a palace, Yuri? They’re really something…”

“Victor! Stop!” Yuri yelled, raising to the pitch enough to turn a few heads, including one silver haired forgetful Russian.

“Huh?”

“We won’t be loading for another hour… Let me breathe a minute.” Yuri said, clutching against the heart of the dark tan coat, hacking and heaving for air.

“We should be allowed to board soon…” Victor said, feeling in his black coat pocket to find his phone, pulling it out Aria side first. He smiled at the sight;_ I’m going to have to get this changed to something else. I wonder how Yuri would feel about having his cute face as my case? _

“….MMMNooo…I’m pretty sure coach goes last…”

The tapping sound of Victor’s index finger scrolling through emails to find the tickets beat with the rising pace of Yuri’s heart. Staying accurate and punctual were things Yuri considered important. The thought of missing something and showing up late started to raise his blood pressure, a flush garnering over each cheek while waiting for Victor to confirm or deny if they were late or not. “Victoor….”

Blue eyes scanned over the document, skimming for the mention of times, “Yes, there, business loads in fifteen minutes. We better hurry up.” Victor confirmed, skating through the flux of people in a flurry.

“What?!?! Business class!” Yuri said, picking up his cumbersome load and scurrying to Victor’s side, the tips of his white rubber shoe sole barely touching the floor as he dashed forward. “I can’t aff-…Victor!”

Stepping through the barrier between coach and first class felt like stepping from one dimension into another. The typical itchy fabric and tri seats of coach changed to two plush blue leather seats with enough width to allow Victor’s lengthy legs to stretch forward as he plopped into the window seat. He set the complimentary grey blanket on the floor next to his feet, grabbing Yuri’s along as he gestured for him to sit down. “Want to get some champagne? We can celebrate your gold medal!”

Hesitant fingers gripped the top headrest, making fingerprint impressions into the leather with the tight grasp. Yuri’s brown eyes cast down as he trembled a breath, “Victor…I can’t afford…”

A reassuring hand pried into the orange head pillowtop, unhinging Yuri’s hold one finger at a time until each one laced into Victor’s hand instead. “We can afford it, Yuri.” He stated, using the hand he held to usher Yuri forward into the seat. Black hair rose and flopped as Yuri finally finagled his way to sitting, still looking nervously around him like someone would come to tell him there’d been a mistake.

“We…”

“Yes,” Victor answered even though no question was asked. The leather screeches as he twisted to face Yuri more squarely. “It’s no fun to be engaged and not get to share anything with you. This is our life.” He said, bringing the hand laced between his fingers up to kiss the fingers. Soft lips pressed over the pinky, then ring, then middle, then index, moving to the thumb and holding his lips a second, parting enough so the tip of his tongue touched against Yuri’s knuckle. The thought of the prior night brought an instant rush of red to Yuri’s cheek and Victor savored every moment watching the glow, pulling his head up and smirking. “I’m really excited to share everything with you, Yuri.”

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The Sheremetyevo layover surprisingly didn’t make Yuri and Victor wait as was customary for an Aeroflot flight, leaving the sun almost at its noon peak as the pair ventured out the wide glass doors of the Pulkovo International Airport. The grandeur of the gold awning made Yuri gape at the sight of the architecture. He lifted his hands over his brow, tilting his head upward to notice all the dips and turns of the geographical canopy. “Wooooowwww….” He started, only to be winded by the force of two light brown permed curly paws toppling him over. “What—blah!” Yuri giggled and turned his head as the poodle’s tongue licked over and around his face. “Makkachin! Hi! How’d you…”

Victor’s silver hair whipped in the wind as he took in the sight of cars whizzing passed him. _Almost a year ago I left St. Petersburg’s to coach Yuri until he won the Grand Prix Final. Every ending starts something new. I couldn’t imagine my life if I never left. _He thought, turning his blue-eyed gaze to the commotion of laughter and dog slurps as his fiancé shook the scruff on Makkachin’s jowls to welcome him back. _I wouldn’t want to._

“Vitya.” A gruff voice came from behind.

The black coat jostled in the swing as Victor turned to see an unamused, stoic figure clad in a similar black coat but fashioned with a black felt hat to hide his balding scalp. “Yakov!” Victor mused, getting the attention of the poodle to finally let Yuri free and race over to Victor’s side. He knelt down and weaved his fingers in the thick of the brown fur, nuzzling his head against his poodle. “Have you been a good dog?” he said, rising back up to walk over to Yakov and place a peck on his left cheek. “Spasibo!”

“You’re late.” Yakov’s monotone growl sounded unimpressed by Victor’s innocent smile as he quirked a brow. Yuri still sat on the concrete where Makkachin flung him a few minutes prior, darting his eyes between both Victor and Yakov.

“Aeroflot. Can’t be helped.” Victor shrugged. His black sweats stuck to him as the wind brought forth a mighty blow, sweeping the few remaining leaves in a swirl off of the sidewalk. Trying to get back on track, he put his hand into the black metal holder and thrust upward to begin rolling his luggage. Yuri rose to gather his things and follow behind the two silently. _Victor didn’t tell me Yakov was picking us up. I’m not sure how I thought we’d get home, though. Where is home?_

“Neh, Victor…where are we going?” Yuri wondered as he picked up his orange suitcase and plopped it into the trunk of Yakov’s Gaz Volga. The pristine and newly waxes silver gleaned against the sun, nearly blinding Yuri as he closed the trunk with a whip of the clasp latching.

Yakov scoffed and shook his head, climbing into the driver’s seat. A sweet smile came over Victor as he held the back-passenger side door of the box shaped vehicle open for Yuri as he spoke, “We’re going home, Yu-ri!” His silver hair fluttered as he leaned to steal a kiss from Yuri as he passed the door to climb into the back after Makkachin.

Yuri situated himself in the back, petting Makkachin as he felt the dog’s hot breath on his cheek with each soggy pant. Black hair feathered against the back of grey leather seats, feeling the padded cushions and the motions of the car motoring through the airport terminal and back out to highway begin to rock him to his jet lagged slumber.

Silver strands of hair swooshed as Victor turned around, ready to begin announcing all the sights to the new resident but found his sleeping beauty head cocked to the side, drool dripping from the side of his mouth and onto Yakov’s back seat. _Better not wake him. It’ll take at least 45 minutes with traffic. _

“We’ll be at the rink after I show Yuri the flat.” Victor said, watching the highway fade into the city street. Burly hands furled around the steering wheel, turning onto the street framed by tall stone buildings. Almost all of the buildings colored a shade of beige, some more yellow, some more pink, but each rising high with crisscrossed windows above the shops below.

“What?!?! You have a press conference with the RSF in four hours!” Yakov barked, mumbling a slew of curses under his breath.

Victor slouched into the plush seat, weighting his body into his backside with the feeling of defeat in his current plans. “Oh…”

“You forgot!” Yakov sighed incredulously, smacking his hand on his forehead. His steely slate eyes checked the rearview mirror cautiously, his wideset jaw grinding against his teeth as he bit down and stared back into the road. [Drop Yuri off at the rink and go to the press conference]

[Why are we speaking Russian now? And why would I leave Yuri?] Victor wondered. The air stiffened with a tension that Victor couldn’t exactly place, but he didn’t bother trying to speak English again incase whatever was said Yuri wasn’t meant to hear.

Steely bead eyes glanced back behind him once more, grumbling to himself as he straightened his arms against the wheel. [I’ve received a few messages]

[Oh.]

[They were through the RSF headquarters. Nothing specific, but…]

[What? Just tell me]

[There’s talk of a merger between Rostlecom and Rominorov Industries…]

Silver strands pushed outward as Victor brought his hand to his forehead, bridging apart his thumb from the rest of his fingers as he drug them deeply through the flesh on his scalp to either temple. [….You can’t be serious]

[Da.]

They survived the rest of the few minutes in silence. The radio hummed an old tune of a time before Victor’s era, resigning him to try staring out the window for distraction. _I think I know which short program piece to pick now. I’ll have to change some of my original moves, but the feeling the story will leave will be…unexpected of me. _

The silver car barely halted to a stop before the whines of an overzealous poodle woke Yuri from his sleep. “Ahh!” he jumped up with a start, the waves of black hair springing in a mess around him as he sprawled upward. Brown eyes darted wildly around from Makkachin, to Yakov, and finally to Victor as he sighed with the relief of knowing where he was at the moment. “I didn’t realize I fell asleep…” he said, mostly to himself.

The door unlatched and the poodle flew over Yuri out into the street, running wildly back and forth a few blocks up and back down again. Makkachin’s wet, black nose pinned to the ground, taking in every new smell and assessing the new. “Alright…yes, Makkachin…we’re home.” Victor mused happily, extending his hand passed to open door for Yuri, “Come on, Yuri. We’re home.”

Yuri pulled the luggage from the trunk and set it on the red and grey patterned concrete sidewalk. Never seeing St. Petersburg outside of pictures and news reports, the view of the high stone buildings left Yuri stunned on how to articulate the sight. The window ledges wrapped the vintage glass in a white frame, drawing the focal point to their alignment against the off yellow beige stone. He counted the three rows of white framed windows as his brown eyes squinted against the blinding sunlight peeking through the top of the building.

“Spasibo, Yakov” he heard Victor say, the silver hair coming into focus as Yuri turned from the dazing sun and back onto the blacktop of the road. Victor leaned next to the driver side door of the silver car, exchanging a few words in Russian that Yuri could not hope to comprehend. The whites of his soles scuffed against the road as Yuri stepped off the sidewalk and over to join Victor’s side.

A pinkish hue claimed over the bare knuckles as Victor removed his hand from his coat pock and reached for Yuri’s fingers as he felt the warmth of a body join next to his side. Black hair flew into the breeze bringing a chill and a shiver from toe to earlobe as Yuri laced his fingers with that hand before him. The cold could be endured to for the feeling of a held hand.

The top of a black hat tipped up to reveal intent blue eyes looking pragmatically at the two. “Yuri, Victor has a press conference in 4 hours. Don’t let him forget.”

“H-hai!” Yuri stuttered, straightening his spine to the extension of every vertebrae. Yakov gave a stern nod before putting his car in drive, teetering between reverse and forward as he pulled the car from the meat part of a parallel parking sandwich. Brown eyes barely saw the silver blur as Victor drug him along into the building, followed on toe by the brown poodle.

Feet clicked along the black wooden floor while padded paws jumped gingerly up the staircase. Yuri brought his free hand to straighten his glasses from the whiplash of Victor snatching him. The strong hand pulled him up the steps behind Makkachin, forgetting their luggage in the entrance hall.

“They redid the entire interior so it’s all modern inside. The only thing that looks rustic is the outside. We’re on the third floor…I had the place cleaned yesterday so everything should be set…I told them to put the boxes of our things in the office so most of its there…I hope…” blue eyes sparkled with the delight of getting to tell Yuri all about the apartment.

“Vi-Victor…the luggage…” Yuri tried against the bobbing and turning up from the second level and up the last flight of stairs.

“…The rink is only fifteen minutes from here if you jog. A coffee shop on the corner that make a perfect latte. There’s no shochu…though…at least not any like Yutopia… and no onsen…but I do have a nice bathtub, though…” every step up the staircase increased the enthusiasm in voice and pace of Victor’s stride to home. Giving up on trying to remind Victor of anything in the present moment, Yuri wheezed and heaved sharp stinging breaths as they wound through the small sterile hallway. The dark wood of the four pegged in a zig zag pattern. Each square light fixture illuminated slate grey walls painted to give a sleek ambiance to an otherwise dismal and drab corridor. The taste of wool mashed onto his tongue as his face collided with Victor’s shoulder at his abrupt stop. “Okay…here.”

The click of a lock and the all the grey opened to white. All the jetlag faded from Yuri’s tired and traveled body, replaced by the tingling sensation of being awe-struck. _I’m in Victor Nikiforov’s apartment! _He thought, his jaw dropping wide until his tongue almost fell from his mouth. Brown eyes shimmered as he took in the scenery of a sunlit steel crafted kitchen. He walked over passed the two-door fridge and ran his finger along the metal edge of the island. He winced, feeling the chill of the edge on his fingertip, stopping just before the iron stovetop at the end of the island.

“I chose that particular stove because it replicated the one of my favorite restaurants in Paris. A lower tier model, of course.” Victor explained.

Black hair flung in shock of the sound, driving him from his momentary lapse to fan of his idol and not fiancé of his love. He looked at the writing on the shiny blacktop board behind the sink on the opposing side of the island, squinting to read the tiny but perfectly straight print of Victor’s neat handwriting. The cryllic words left Yuri dumfounded, but the numbers and fractions on the side he knew from Detroit when he and Phichit “attempted” a few dinners. “You cook?” Yuri asked, quirking a brow in disbelief.

Victor snuffled a laugh, “Mhm. I was really interested in French when I was younger. I learned quite a few dishes from there.” He said, shutting the door from where he put his coat in the closet and stepping over to where Yuri stared at the ceramic bowls and glass jars on the two long wooden shelves above the blackboard. Long arms wrapped Yuri’s waist from behind as Victor snuggled in on his shoulder. “There’s more than just the kitchen.” Victor said, moving Yuri to walk past the bar side of the island where thee wooden stools stood. He ran his hand under the dark tan coat as Yuri still stood slightly dumbfounded by everything, peeling Yuri from his winter wear and placing it atop the chair closest to the window.

Paws padded and scratched along the wall just before the opened leading to another area. “I’ll have to find your bowls, Makkachin.” Victor assured as he walked him and Yuri into the living room area. Sunlight streamed from the large windows Yuri had saw from the outside, brightening the zigzag wood floor. Silver hair dazzled in the sunlight as they brushed against Yuri’s cheek before he felt them fall away, along with himself, backwards.

They landed with a plop. Victor held Yuri on his lap as he smiled into his neck, “And this…is where I was when I saw your video.”

“Really?” Yuri looked at the modern blue tightly woven fabric on the couch, reaching to run his finger along the threads.

“Mhmm.”

_I never thought to even ask. He has a lot of books on those shelves behind us, pictures of architecture on the wall. And lights. There were at least twenty hanging lights in the kitchen. More here. I know he had a lot at Yutopia, too. _

“What’s over there?” Yuri asked, pointing to a door framed with tiny square windows just outside the hall where they entered.

“That’s the bedroom. The two doors before are the bathroom and the office.” Victor replied, pushing Yuri up so they could each stand up once more to continue the tour. Yuri followed Victor back through the entrance and down a few feet to a white door. Pale hands reached for the brass knob and pulled it forward, revealing an all white marble washroom. The sink fixed with one basin and a long offwhite countertop reflecting in the mirror the full length of the fixture. “There’s only one bathroom, and bedroom. There were two bedrooms, but I made one an office. But the bathroom’s nice, right?”

“Yes, yes. It’s beautiful.” Yuri’s eyes drifted to the pearl tub basin, shimmering white with steel handles. “That’s a lot of room for one bathtub. Mine in Detroit was tiny.”

Victor nodded in agreement, gesturing them out of the bathroom. “I didn’t want a small place to get ready.” He said as he walked over to the next room, “and this…” he said, pushing his shoulder to force the door open, “Is the office…or it will be once we unpack all the boxes.”

“Oh…yeah…there’s a lot to unpack.”

“We can start tomorrow.” Victor tok his hand and strummed his thumb on the top reassuringly. He took a few steps and turned to the door Yuri acknowledged earlier. “Now…” he said dramatically, his voice a whisper of excitement as he reached for the handle and opened the bedroom door, “This is our bedroom!”

Yuri felt his throat dry as he stepped through the entrance, looking head on to the black metal canopy framing the large mattress fitted with white covers. Sheer white cloth draped over the frame and hung gingerly on either side. “It’s…”

“Right?!? The windows give the room such a natural elegance. I’ll put my small bookshelf back in here. And the sofas back in the office.” Victor said, leading them to sit on the edge of the bed, “What do you think?” he asked, leaning in until his lips were fixed with Yuri’s.

“I…think” Yuri spoke between the kisses on his lips. His body feeling the heat of breath on his lips as Victor moved in small increments down his neck. One kiss on his chin, then next to his ear, then to the nape of his neck. His body warmed to each new sensation, barely able to remember where his train of thought started, let alone where it ended.

“I think it’s really…ah…” a heavy sigh released from between his lips as he felt the wetness of a tongue on his neck. Nothing else mattered anymore. Soft slips puckered and sucked, teasing the edge of teeth on the same spot that left Yuri feeling a tingling numb down to his toes. He brought in his breath to hold against the feeling welling inside, trying to escape in a vocal gasp of triumph, but Yuri wouldn’t let it. Hands moved up and down his back outside of his shirt, grasping hard and pulling Yuri forward onto Victor’s lap.

Yuri let his fingers explore, running his hands over Victor’s arms and back down again. Soon the wet warmth moved from Yuri’s neck, leaving a stitch of cold as the dampness cooled in the air, and went back to firmly planting on Yuri’s lips. Brown hair tangled into silky silver strands as lips turned and parted, and Yuri eagerly welcomed the taste of Victor’s mouth into his own. He savored every turn and sought the return and twist mingling with the sensation of hands running down his spine. Victor’s mouth work drove the momentum further, and he felt the pleasant reward of trembling fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. Yuri’s lithe body was a testament of the work and dedication he put into this past year, and Victor grabbed at every inch of back, letting his hands slip further until he felt the supple roundness of Yuri’s back end.

Brown eyes widened as he pulled back with a yip. “Ummm…” His cheeks flushed red as he felt a gentle squeeze on both sides under him and beheld Victor’s half lidded eyes hungry with what only Yuri could give.

Seeing the hesitance, Victor moved his hands up and pulled Yuri into an embrace. “We should probably both shower and get to the rink, huh?” he said, kissing the top of Yuri’s forehead through his black strands. Victor rose up, lifting Yuri off of him as he went to exit.

Brown eyes followed, still taking in the room. “Victor…we haven’t unpacked. I don’t have any clothes.”

“You’ll have to go naked, then” Victor quipped, moving to the bathroom.

“HAH?!?” Yuri squeaked, not sure of whether to believe Victor or not.

Victor laughed a deeply, smiling into the reflection in the mirror as he turned on the faucet. _I will never get tired of that. _“My closet is the door on the right wall. I’m sure there’s something in there stretchy enough to fit you.”

_Victor’s closet?!?!? _Yuri thought, rising up to move to the door he saw next to a teal footstool. _There’s a dresser, and the bed, a couple of matching nightstands, and more lights…but no pictures. _His hand reach for the knob and turned to pull open the closet door. The inside contained wall to floor clothes on hangers in three rows. _This closet is almost as big as my room back home! _He shuffled through the array of shirts, pants, belts much like he had when Victor brought his costumes from previous years. _I don’t know when any of these were worn like I did his outfits from programs he did. He has more suits! I don’t think I could fit any of his pants. I wear his costume from when he was sixteen now…_

_._

_._

_._

_._

Yuri finally settled on a plain black three-quarter inch V-neck and one of the smaller looking pair of black sweatpants. The sweats cinched around his waist with no need for elastic band to expand, but at least they stayed on his hips as he re-bundled himself.

“The rink’s only a few minutes away, but since we have to drive to the press conference then we’ll take my car.” Victor said, winding his black scarf around himself. “They told me they parked it in the garage. Should be easy to find.”

The smell of concrete slabs and mildew made Yuri’s nostrils upturn as they made their way through the garage. Victor used his keyfob to click the lights, illuminating a blue car in the back corner of the parking garage. “There it is! I haven’t drove in so long.” His light voice tingled with happiness as he strode over to the car. “Do you drive? We never did in Hasetsu.”

“Mnmnn…No.” Yuri said sheepishly, “There wasn’t much reason to learn.”

“Right.” Victor said as they approached the car. Yuri noted the BMV logo on the end as he walked up the light blue door on the passenger side. They got in and settled as Victor reacclimated himself with the featured of the car. The light grey leather chilled through the sweatpants as Yuri shuddered, crossing his arms to hug himself. Victor pressed the button to start, glancing to his side to spy on his shivering fiancé. Blue eyes softened with adoration and he reached his hand over to give a reassuring pat on Yuri’s thigh, “It’s only December. Winter in Russia has barely started.”

The heater brought warmth through the vents at their feet, quickly thawing the chilled limbs. Yuri looked out the window, acquainting himself with the sights and sounds of a new city. _ I feel like it really hasn’t hit me yet. It’s barely been a day since we left Japan. _

The leather wheel turned right as Victor steered with his left hand, his right not leaving Yuri’s thigh since he sat it there earlier. It just felt right. “This is the Tuchkov bridge. The rink’s at the other end….Wow, the last time I was here was my last night in St. Petersburg.”

“Really?”

“Mh. Yakov chased me to the airport trying to convince me to stay. I already decided, though.” Victor said, pulling into the drive of a cylindrical building. The large stone pillars between the long windows reminded Yuri of some of the buildings from his time in Detroit.

“In the summer we’ll be able to drive with the top down. I really haven’t had much of a chance to since I bought it.” Victor mused, parkin in the lot just outside the rink doors. He glanced into the mirror and adjusted a few stray silver strands before opening the door and climbing out. Taking note, Yuri pulled the lever and shimmed out of the light blue convertible. He looked at the Cyrillic writing over the entryway like it might make sense being so close to English, but nothing sounded together in his head. Victor noticed his determined eyes and offered to help, “It’s the Yubileyny Sports Palace, Yuri.”

“Yubibleenee?”

“Close.”

Yuri heard blades before he was them, making him itch for his own. A long arm snaked over his shoulders as Victor held him, directing them through the long halls to the rink. The practice rink was illuminated by large towering windows aligning the outside facing wall of the rink, making the ice glow like stars at twilight.

Scratches and swishes spiraled out, echoing with each twirl and spin as skaters dashed throughout the sizeable rink. Brown eyes lingered on the rink, trying to find any recognizable faces. _I only know a few Russian skaters and I’m with one of them. I think I see Yurio. The red hair might be Mila…_

Two girlish giggles in unison rang out from behind, “Victor!!!!” they cooed, stepping closer to him. Victor turned and waved politely, stepping over to greet the two rink mates. One of the girls lifted her finger to her lip, her dull light brown mop pulled into a clip behind her head while a wave of bang swooped on the side. “Your back! What are you doing now?”

Brown eyes narrowed at the memory bubbling inside him. _Those are the girls who told Victor to break up with me at The Cup of China… _ The banter between the two women and Victor gurgled inside Yuri’s mind. He didn’t really care about what was said. He strode over the few feet to Victor’s side and wrapped both arms around his chest nuzzling his head against it. “This is my first time at the rink! Show me it!” he demanded, tilting his head so his brown eyes shone straight into the pool of blue.

Silver strands fluffed in the air as Victor gasped at the unexpected affection. “Of course, Yuri.” He bowed his head to the two women as they stared back at one another dumbfounded at the display. They each shrugged and walked out of the rink area, full of whispers and laughter out of earshot.

Victor rubbed his hand down Yuri’s back, stroking for a moment as he stared at those deep brown eyes. A hand reached up to sup his cheek and Yuri stretched up the last three inches to meet his lips with Victor, sharing the short song of a kiss.

“OHMYFUCKINGGOD ALREADY!?!?” the shrill voice of an angry small Russian tiger blasted from the middle of the rink. Green eyes shot daggers at the pair before huffing a sigh and skating rinkside.

“Yurio! When did you get here?” Victor asked, an innocent smile on his face.

Blonde locks of hair matted against Yurio’s sweat drenched face, “I’ve been here since morning, asshole.”

“Right” he said, walking down to the rink with Yuri still latched by one arm. He looked over to see Yakov. “Yakov! You’re the best coach…”

“Get to your press conference, Victor.”

“Right. Come on, Yuri. We’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO LEAVE HIM HERE!!!!”

“I’m sorry, Yakov…but…”

“I MIGHT AS WELL CHANGE MY NAME TO I’M SORRY YAKOV AS MUCH AS I HEAR IT FROM YOU!!!!” Yakov bellowed, the force of his outburst blowing silver and black hair being their heads. He smacked his wrinkling forehead, breathing a heavy sigh. He nodded at the blonde, “Yuri, go with them.”

“What?!?!? Why?!?!?”

“Victor will be in a conference and his Yuri doesn’t speak any Russian. Go translate.”

Victors eyes spiraled blue pools of joy, “Yes!!! Spasibo!!!”

.

.

.

.

The conference hall seemed drab in comparison to most of the antique designs Yuri already witnessed. Stale off white walls stained an opaque yellow under the distressing lights. Victor sat at a table surrounded by RSF officials and eager news reporters. Yurio and Yuri resigned themselves to a couple of seats in the back corner of the room, waiting for the press conference to start.

“Congratulations on your gold at nationals,” Yuri said politely.

Yurio just bristled under his hoodie, “Yeah, yeah. It’s just nationals. Who cares? I’ll kill you both at Worlds.”

_I was really excited to win All Japan, even if it is just national competitions. Victor was excited too. I wonder what it will take to make Yurio happy?_

A news reporter in a red dress suit began speaking into her microphone in Russian as the room came to a hush. “It’s starting.” Yurio stated.

“Oh, okay.”

[Five-time World Champion and national hero, Victor Nikiforov, announces his official return to skating. Coming to you live in St. Petersburg… Mr. Nikiforov, thank you for coming today.]

[Of course. I’m very excited to return. I think everyone will be surprised.]

[Mr. Nikiforov, we originally heard you had planned on competing in Russian Nationals. Can you comment on your absence?]

[Sure. My student, Yuri Katsuki’s nationals fell on the same weekend. I needed to be there as his coach...]

[Are you planning to have your student join the RSF?]

[No. Yuri skates for Japan. He’s training in Russia with me so I can begin training myself. I really think the new prog-]

[Are you worried about the ethical implications between you two?]

[I understand the struggle of coaching and competing…]

[What about the ethical issues surrounding your romantic involvement with skater Yuri Katsuki while competing?]

[I can’t comment on that matter without talking to Yuri first..]

[Has the RSF okayed this relationship with your student?]

[I wouldn’t be here if they didn’t.]

[What about ISU regulations? Wouldn’t it be better to be with a Russian athlete?]

[There’s nothing stopping me from getting on the ice. Now, I’d like to talk about the future of my programs, okay?] his blue eyes twinkled as Victor smiled widely, his demeanor masking the passive aggressiveness clinging onto each word.

“He’s an idiot” Yurio winced as he stayed planted in his seat next to Yuri. “You both are idiots.”

Brown eyes widened as Yuri sat straighter to try and see overtop the gaggle of reporters. “Why? What was said?”

“They immediately asked about you. Called Victor out for being a dumbass and getting engaged.”

“Hey! That’s not...”

“They asked if the RSF knew and okayed it. He said they did. I bet he hasn’t even talked to the RSF before today…”

“Would the RSF not let him be my coach?”

“They don’t really have a choice now. Victor came here knowing they’d pull something like that. Probably why he posted that shitty picture on SMS. He’s always playing the media. The RSF would look like idiots now if they don’t let him skate.”

“Why would they care?”

“They don’t care about you, personally. You’re just not…Russian… He’s talking a little bit about his ideas for his short program. He says he’ll announce the title by the end of this week….”

[I think that’s about all, today. Any more questions?]

[Mr. Nikiforov, care to comment on the possible merger between Rostlecom and Romin-]

[No, thank you.]

[But you’re…]

[I’m an athlete, not a businessman. I won’t comment on anything regarding that.]

“Whoah.” Yurio snapped his head back, unsure if he what happened. Victor’s entire visage seemed to cast a shadow over his face. _He looks exactly the same way he did when I kicked him in Barcelona. What the hell?_

Catching the tone and change of expression, Yuri leaned over and whispered anxiously, “What’s going on. Why does Victor look angry?”

“I’m not sure. He cut them off before they really said anything. I’ve never seen him look like that. Not at the press, anyways. He’s back to smiling now.”

[I think that will be all the questions I answer today. I look forward to competing at Worlds!]

Victor smiled gayly at the camera, the heart shape returning to his mouth as he graciously gave his good-bye’s and thank you to the reporters and the few RSF officials. The sea of suits and ties made every person he shook with appear a mirror image of the other. None of the faces stood out. Each gave the same bland congratulations as the next. All of the expected words were said with the proper amount of attention given, but Victor’s eyes kept straying to the black sticking strands washing over blue frame glasses.

The hand shaking his came to a stop as the grey-haired man turned to try and catch where Victor was staring at, [Oh, that’s Yurio!] he said, nudging an elbow to another bat of grey wisps and whiskers next to him.

A thinner, and balder man also turned, the length of his chin cutting into Victor’s line of sight. [I think that’s the Japanese one, as well.]

[Victor, bring your student here. The RSF is very interested in meeting him.] the first gentleman stated, gesturing Victor forward.

[Of course, Mr. Gorshkov.] silver bangs fell to the tip of Victor’s nose as he bowed his head in goodbye. _I really just want to leave and take Yuri back home. This was inevitable, though. The interview went better than expected. If I could just get them to stop bringing up…_ he thought as he walked swiftly to the back of the room, making his black jeans swish through the breeze of his own making. “Yuri, they want to meet you?”

Both brown and green eyes looked at him, shocked, “Mee???”

“Sure.” He answered, moving to snake his arms around Yuri’s waist and pull him forward to the two officials. Yuri scoffed and followed, planting his hands deep within his cheetah print jacket pockets.

“I’m not really dressed for meeting….” Yuri tried nervously adjusting his tan coat to cover the slightly oversized black pants. _I never thought I’d be trying to cover myself because my clothes were too big. What would they want with me? Yurio said the press wasn’t very happy I was with Victor…much less the RSF… _The two three-piece black suit clad older gentleman looked up and waved. Two sets of deep green eyes buried in wrinkled lids turned up and then down as if making a judgement call on Yuri’s very soul. Black hair stuck into threads of Victor’s cream sweater as Yuri tried to shrink into Victor’s shoulder.

Hands swooped outward as Victor gestured to the two gentlemen, “Yuri, this is Mr. Gorshkov and Mr. Kogan, the heads of the Russian Skating Federation.” He stated, turning to mirror his gesture out to the two men, “Eto moy zhenikh i uchenik, Yuri Katsuki. On govorit po-angliyski” (This is my fiancé and student, Yuri Katsuki. He speaks English)

Mr. Gorshkov furrowed his grey brows, coughing a moment to pretend that he was aware of all skaters’ ability to speak English, including the Japanese, “Yes, yes. Of course.” He bluffed through his raspy thick Russian accent, “Hallo, Yuri. Itz a pleasure to meet you.” He said, extending his hand.

Yuri took hold with as firm of a grip as he could and bowed, “Yes, th-thank you. Pleased…to meet…you as well” he spoke as though none of the words made sense.

“It’s…veery intervesting…” the trim older gentleman started, turning his gaze back and forth from Victor to Yuri. “…Victor should find a student so…”

“Different.” The other man interjected. “It’s very interesting, indeed. Victor has made Russia proud for over a decade. It was a…shock…to learn he left for a foreign-“

“Country. For another country…but, our hero is back!” Mr. Gorshkov clapped his hand on Victor’s shoulder for emphasis. His eyes looked grim while his smile remained open. “…And now we also have another gold medalist! Yuri Plisetsky has done well in your absence.” He said, pointing to the blonde head lost in a grumble on the side. Though, Yuri perked up to hear his name, sneering tauntingly at Victor as he caught the words spoken of him.

Blue eyes darkened, slanting in a wince of anger before returning to their bright charming appeal. “Yurio’s done well with my short program. It was sheer bliss to see my choreography reach record level.” _I haven’t wanted to fight this much for gold in a long time. Without Yuri, none of this would be happening._

The two older men huffed, exchanging defeated looks to one another, “Right. We’ll let you all get on with your day. We’re sure your student needs to practice… We are glad to have you back, Victor. We expect to see Russia with all gold this season.”

“Dosvidanja.” Victor waved. _I hope Yuri doesn’t take this to heart. _He thought, spinning around to look at the two. Moving quickly, Victor nudged between both Yuri’s and wrapped and arm around each shoulder. His left hung lazily around Yurio while he clutched over his partner’s tan coat, squeezing his shoulder to pull him into a side hug, “I’m hungry! Let’s get something to eat!” he suggested, the merry tone of his voice returned.

“After this bullshit, you’re buying me dinner!” Yurio barked, moving along begrudgingly to the door where Victor finally freed him. Green eyes stared at the robin’s egg blue BMW, “What kind of idiot Russian gets a convertible?” he grumbled, opening the latch and piling into the backseat behind Yuri.

The push start button plopped with the quick start of the barely audible engine purr as Victor pressed it and shrugged, “Neh, neh…it’s a hard top, Yurio.” He said, reversing and pulling onto the road. _Yuri hasn’t really said anything since he met the two heads. _He said, quickly surveying his fiancé. The brown eyes stared stalely out the window, Yuri’s shoulder pressed against the door with his black spikes mushed up against clear glass. “Do you have any type of place you want to go, Yuri?”

Yuri pulled from the window and looked at the silver strands falling the way of those blue eyes. He smiled sweetly, “Mmm, nah. I don’t know what’s in St. Petersburg.”

“Oh, right.” Victor replied dryly. _We haven’t really had a moment to settle. I need to take Yuri someplace to take his mind off of earlier. _He pondered over the possibilities as the white dividing lines of the road focused and fizzled behind the car’s momentum as they sped passed the slower lane vehicles. _I’ve got it._

_._

_._

_._

_._

The bright white of the headlights faded out as Victor put the blue car in park. Dusk settled on the horizon, painting shades of orange to yellow to purple on the plain behind the little yard in front of a small grey stone building. The excitement of showing something new to Yuri putting the misery of the interview firmly behind him, Victor leaped out of the car, almost waltzing over to the passenger side and opening the door. He bent down and extended his hand and Yuri took the help out of the car and up on the sidewalk.

Tealights hung on the end of teal painted wooden fence, illuminating the walkway through the middle of two flower beds. Red, pink, white, and orange petals displayed their individual pattern and shape between large robust green bushes and leaves that spilt over the sides. Victor’s arm rested in the crux of Yuri’s hip as they made their way up to the door, passed a large silver and black chess set with the checkered board painted on the cement. Blonde hair hid the irritated green eyes as Yurio stared down at his phone, typing furiously.

[One damn day and I’m already stuck with the pigs]

[Didn’t you go to Japan a year ago to get Victor back to Russia?]

[Otabek….seriously.]

[Okay, what?]

[How the hell am I going to survive months of this]

[pictureofvictorandyuri’sbackwithvictorholdingyuri.jpg]

[Use it to fuel your freeskate?]

[damnit…]

[musicshare.PatienceGunsnRoses]

[not funny]

[Yeh, it was]

_Otabek doesn’t know what it’s like to deal with someone like Victor. At least he lets me bitch. _

Yurio pocketed his phone as he entered behind the two, trying not to gag as Victor stole a kiss on Yuri’s cheek. “What is this place? It looks like a hag’s house.” He commented, staring at the mismatched teal interior fixtures with books adorned on them. The side wall worked as a functioning bookshelf, packed full of books with tethered bindings too old to read the title’s from Yurio’s vantage.

“Teplo’s is a neat place. It’s fairly close to where we live now, Yuri.” Victor said, taking a seat on the black wooden chair near the wall, gesturing for Yuri to sit as well. “I came here often on my…”

“VIIIICTOR!” the three turned their heads back behind at the sound of a bellowing woman’s voice. “Chestnoye slovo! Victor Nikiforov vernulsya! Speshite, Danya, prinesite yemu yego chashku!” [Honestly! Victor Nikiforov is back! Hurry, Danya, get him his cup!]

A few clinks of ceramic and a thin woman in a dark blue apron walked up to the table, bearing a cup molded into the shape of a brown poodle. “Tvoy chay, gospodin Nikiforov.” She said meekly, the ends of her brown curls falling over her shoulder as she bent to place the cup down. The shaking of her hands tipped the cup just enough to splash some of the tea onto the table, “Izvinite!” (Sorry!) she spat. [I’ll go get a napkin] she exclaimed, running on heel back into the small kitchen area.

“Prosti yeye Ona noven'kaya” [Forgive her. She is new.] the voice of the initial call for Victor revealed herself as the frantic waitress flew by. The stout woman reached into her apron and pulled a small towel out, reaching her stubby fingers to pat the table dry. [We didn’t expect to see Russia’s hero tonight. Our new ones aren’t used to seeing such a handsome face, you know?] With no room for her short stubby body to go out of the way, the edges of her bosom brushed against Victor’s forearm as she spoke. The ends of her crooked mouth drew into a smirk as she elbowed Victor at the end of her taunt.

Unphased, blue eyes shined with glee as he cackled and laughed, [Oh, Frieda! That’s funny! I came as soon as I got back. Just today!] he said, flashing his silver bangs and giving his telltale wink.

Frieda crossed her short arms under the cushion of her chest, rising up to look down with an amused huff. [Always the charmer, Victor! Well, well…introduce me to your guests!]

[Right, this is Yuri Plisetsky…]

[Yes, the Russian fairy. We saw him at the grand prix final. You did Russia proud.] the older woman stated, earning a growl from under a mop of blonde hair. Yurio hushed his inner voice to scream profanities though, since she did compliment him.

[We call him Yurio because…] Pale hands reached under the table for Yuri’s two fingers, prying them from their nervous twisting. Victor bought them to the tabletop, the gold glinting even in the dim overhead light. [This…is my fiancé, Yuri Katsuki. He doesn’t speak Russian so you’ll have to speak English if you can]

“EEF I CIIIN.” She bristled, the sway of her blue and purple flannel shirt dress flustering in her indignation. “I sawr eet on ze internet. Your piczure. Iz this thee mehn you vent to Jipan fur?”

“She knows you went to Japan to coach me?” Yuri asked, leaning in to talk to Victor.

“Of course.” He answered, acknowledging both questions at once.

A loud cackle came from the boisterous woman, “COACH?!?! Ahhh, that vhat he said…buht that’s nuht ze piczures he showed!!!!” she giggles, waggling her index finger at the tip of Victor’s nose.

Brown eyes bulged out of socket in shock. Yuri lifted his hands to cover his mouth as he stammered, “What?!? Pictures?”

“Oh zes! Photos of yew and heem at a partay…” she said, her deep green-hazel eyes shining past the thin spectacle sliding down her nose as she dipped in almost nose to nose with Yuri, giving him a once over. “Yez, it vas you…wasn’t it? What a cute little devil on that video…too...” she walked a few steps over to the kitchen [Daniil, Vlidka it’s the boy from the photos! Victor brought the boy from the photos!!!]

An amused grin sparked across Victor’s face as he heard the words Yuri couldn’t understand. He brushed his nose into the side of Yuri’s head and kissed against his ear, trying to stifle a laugh. Even Yuri cocked a smile at the thought of the embarrassment about to come. Two men and the waitress from earlier peaked over the edge of the counter, crooning their necks to get a view before tumbling over one another. They brushed themselves off and sauntered over.

“Vi-Victor…why are these people looking at me?” Yuri tried to ask, scooting his body close to Victor’s shoulder.

The tallest skinny man with styled short brown hair put his hand over the sides of his face, “Eet iz him!”

Frieda nodded, “Victor came to see us vun more tim beefur leaving St. Petersburg. He told me he vas going to bee a coach. And vhen I asked him who fur…he showed us all ze piczures on his phone of a very…eager boy dacing wis our Victor. I knew! I knew zhen didn’t I boys?”

“MHM…” The said in unison.

“I said vhen you leaft, Victor. I said, zhet is a man in love. Zhet is a man in love and he duzn’t evhen know eet.” She exclaimed, placing her rounded palm flat against her chest.

The taller man grinned to the side, looking Yuri up and down as he crossed his arms, “I mean, how could he not after those pictures? You looked…” he trailed off smacking his lips.

“BEEE-UU-TIFUL!” Frieda rang, her heavy arms latching over Victor’s shoulder in a hug. “Victor finally bringing someone here vis him. EEt iz perfect! Now vhat you want to eat? It is on Frieda tonight! For our new Russian gold medalist and our new couple!”

The small round woman toddled away to the kitchen, leaving her slightly less trembling waitress to receive the order. Victor spoke for the table, ordering a few appetizers and entrees to split between them. Soon, a spread of a feast lay before their eyes, stomachs growling with the realization that they hadn’t ate since morning.

“Yuri, these are potato pancakes with salmon, cream cheese and caviar, and that’s bruschetta, and over there is fuet sausage…” Victor pointed as he plopped a sausage in his mouth, “VKUSNO!!!” he mused happily.

Yurio shoveled food in from all sides of the table, not caring to reach for plating or utensils. “Hey, Victor…when are you going to show your programs?” he asked through a mouthful of food.

Victor paused between his bite, putting a finger to his chin. “Hmmm… I have the music already for my short program…”

“What is it?” Yuri wondered, staring at the caviar on top of the potato cake curiously.

“It’s another arrangement like the both of yours On Love programs.”

_We all going to be competing against each other with Victor’s programs. And I’m supposed to win gold. _Yuri thought, deciding to bite into the bit of food he held. “MMMM!” he perked up.

“Right?!?!” Victor said.

.

.

.

.

The sidewalk lanterns rained just enough light so the brink of the blue on the bmv convertible shimmered in the hood as the rest cast in darkness. Victor looked over to the yellow stone building with white rectangles painted throughout and smiled, “Your still with Yakov and Lilia?”

Yurio groaned as he stepped out of the car, “Yeah. Lilia doesn’t want me to slack off…”

“You know you could use…”

“Bite me, Victor….” He said, rummaging in his pocket to find a white card with black lettering on it. He lifted his hand behind him, thrusting it almost into Victor’s nose, “Here.”

Dazzling blue eyes crossed at the card, narrowing to try and focus as Yuri reached up to help hold it and read, “Artel...Jewelers and Engravings?”

The black hoodie ruffled as Yurio shook his head yes, kicking the curb with his purple sneaker. “Yeah…my mom told me about it when she saw your rings on social media. They know her really well from when she was younger, and they still like her enough to do me a favor.”

“Engraving for…the rings?”

“Yeah, isn’t that a thing you do for this type of stuff?” Yurio gestured wildly to the two of them.

Victor’s voice softened, “Yurio…”

“Just tell them the name Plisetsky and they’ll take care of it.” He said, stuffing his pockets and walking to the doorstep. He kept his eyes on the door but spoke loud enough to be heard, “Happy Birstday, Victor.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, anything between the asterisk ****** is smut. Feel free to skip over if it is not your thing.

Chapter 8

_SMACK!!!_

Victor felt the slap as if he himself had hit his forehead with both hands instead of the man standing next to him. The force of the hit knocked Yuri’s blue framed glasses almost into his eye socket. His palms cupped over the frames, trying to shield his eyes, “IFORGOTYOURBIRTHDAYVICTORIAMSODUMB!!!!” Yuri’s words turned into an anxious whirl as he nervously shook his head back and forth. _I’ve known Victor’s birthday since I was twelve years old. How could I forget the first one when I am with him?!?!_

Long arms came around his torso, pulling Yuri’s back to Victor’s chest. Black hair pierced softly into the crevice under Victor’s chin as Yuri slumped into a pitiful stance of humiliation. “Yuri, it’s okay. We’ve been traveling. I forgot it was December 25th for most of the day. It’s better in Russia to celebrate after the birthday, anyways.” Victor said, giving his best attempt to be soothing.

“Really?” Yuri asked, his brown eyes peeking up to meet the blue from under his fingers.

“Mhm. Russia’s very superstitious about birthdays. It’s best to know the person made it through the day, then wish them early and have them not make it.” Victor explained, planting a kiss at the top of his head. “Besides, in this month I’ve had two engagements, a second first kiss, celebrating Christmas eve for the first time, a gold ring and a gold medal. Pretty great for not even my birthday, neh, Yuri?!?”

Tense muscles started to relax under the tan jacket, melting more against Victor’s chest. Brown eyes found their way to look at the twinkling stars burgeoning in the dark night sky. Nothing felt the way Victor’s arms felt. Nothing about Victor felt the same to Yuri in any sense of the word. _It’s been a lot of firsts for me. _

“I love you, Victor.”

_._

_._

_._

_._

Climbing the three flights of stairs with two suitcases and a duffel left Yuri heaving as Victor’s slim delicate fingers unlocked the door. The whine of a brown poodle echoed in the hall as Makkachin danced to see Victor appear in the doorway. Silver hair fell into the brown curl as Victor hugged onto the poodle, leaning back enough to receive several licks. “Yes, I’m back Makkachin. Let’s get you outside!” Blue eyes lifted as Victor let out an amused laugh, ruffling through the brown fur before rising back to his full height.

Yuri slunked against his orange suitcase, propping himself up as he watched Victor and Makkachin waltz over to a steel door with a separation line down the middle. Makkachin jumped to press the down arrow button as Black hair frazzled on end in realization. “THERE’S AN ELEVATOR!!!”

“Of course. I told you everything was modern.”

“Why didn’t we use it?!?” he balked. The brown eyes swirling in exhaustion and frustration as Yuri threw his hands on his head.

A pale index finger held in the air at the edge of Victor’s bottom lip, “It’s important to use everything available to an athlete to keep in shape.” he said, closing his eyes into the innocent smile as the steel doors opened behind him. Makkachin jumped in, whining until Victor joined him. “Right, kobuta-chan?” he called as the doors shut.

His mouth gaped open in shock, “I’m not even squishy!!!!” he yelled into the hallway, brown eyes narrowed in defiance. A heavy sigh fell from his mouth and into the silence as he turned to lug the suitcases into the apartment. The rolling grind bucked against the floorboards from the entryway to the bedroom until Yuri gingerly set each piece next to the light brown dresser. He walked back into the hall and peeled out of his coat before hanging in the closet by the window. Dark brown eyes turned to take in the apartment for the first time alone.

_Victor’s place looks to modern but…empty. He has things, but nothing personal. Everything is decorative or…functional. I guess I never noticed at Yutopia because all of my family’s things were there. I never saw anything really personal there either…except lights. He really likes lights. And sofas. There was the ballet poster, and some books on the bookshelf. That statue. But nothing that attached him to anything except for Russia and skating…I thought I would find something here…but am I even sure what? _

He browsed over the names of the books on the brown shelf behind the blue couch in the living room. No names popped out to him, most being in a language he couldn’t understand; some French, some Russian. A few of the cloth bindings had English titles, and Yuri stared to read the names of mostly comprehensive skating rules someone probably gifted him. At the end of the third row Yuri found a title without the word skating in it and read aloud, _“Oscar Wilde…De Prof-“he_ tried to pronounce. Lifting yellowed edges of paper slit by slit folded over one another as Yuri flipped through the pages, parsing through the words for some sort of meaning.

_“…I feel like if I kept it secret it might grow in my mind (as poisonous things grow in the dark) and take its place with other terrible thoughts that gnaw me…”_ Yuri’s attempt at reading in English muddied through as he spoke each word allowed, trying to gain sense and reason to what these words might mean to Victor. So engrossed in the translation, he gave no notice to the click of a door, or the plush padding of paws, or the drizzling sound of water stirring into a metal sink or the hush of water filling into a ceramic bowl. Definitely not the clash of ceramic and wood as the bowl hit the floor, and the laps of a wild tongue slurping the water. All of the focus remained on uncovering the words in front of his eyeballs, his soft Kyushu dialect trying to not sound over each word. So much so he didn’t hear the closet door close As Victor’s shoes and coat were placed within, and Yuri didn’t even turn an eye as black jeans made imprints in the couch at the knee as he continued reading. _“…No man in my position can fall into the mire of life without getting a great deal of pity from his inferiors; and I know that when plays last too long, spectators tire. My tragedy has lasted far too long; its climax is over…”_

Silver tufts of bang pushed on the rim of the faded pages, drawing Yuri from his reading and to the realization that somehow Victor had gotten stretched on his stomach on the couch with his head in Yuri’s lap. “Oh!” Yuri exclaimed, startled. “I didn’t even hear…”

“Oh, Oscar Wilde’s De Profundus. Interesting choice…” Victor said, nosing the page as he turned over to lay on his back, taking the book from Yuri’s grasp.

“It…was the only one I could read.” Yuri admitted sheepishly.

“Mhm. I don’t have much in English.” Victor replied, flipping through the brittle pages gingerly. “It’s a letter written to his lover while he was imprisoned.”

“Why was he imprisoned?”

“For having a lover.”

“Oh? But-”

“A male lover, Yuri.” Blue eyes grazed over the brackets of texts, scanning for lines he knew by heart. “History shows us the cruelty of the past, it’s important to know it to enjoy the fruits of the present.”

_It’s hard to imagine a world where I couldn’t love Victor. _Yuri thought, lifting his hand to run his fingers through those silver tresses. The silky fine strands felt almost liquid in-between Yuri’s fingers as he watched Victor read.

Tender hands flipped a few pages more, nestling into the soft sweats on Yuri’s thighs. His slender index ran down the right page until almost the end. _“Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world. I cannot conceive any other explanation. I am convinced that there is no other, and that is that world has indeed, as I have said, been built on sorrow, it has been built by the hands of love, because in no other way could the soul of a man, for whom the world was made, reach the full stature of its perfection. Pleasure for the beautiful body, but pain for the beautiful soul.”_

The sound of the faint Russian accent lying with the sweet lilting drawl of Victor’s voice began to lull Yuri into a trance, but the words like “suffering” and “pain” pulled him to cognizance. “That’s beautiful… like agape. Just…really sad agape.”

“Mhm… a world where you can understand love, but you suffer for feeling it.” Victor mused, shutting the book and pushing to sit up with a twist to continue to face his fiancé. He reached to hold Yuri’s ringed hand in his own, spinning the gold band around the finger. “A world where we couldn’t wear these rings…”

The ducts of brown eyes started to well on the thought. “I don’t want to live in that world. Ever.” He said, his black brows furrowing. _I know I didn’t say it when I gave Victor his ring, even if I wanted to. But now… I never want to let go of him. _

A hand cupped around Yuri’s cheek as the other ran down his shoulder over the thin black fabric of Victor’s shirt he was wearing. Half-lidded blue eyes batted their lashes as Victor leaned in close. “Lucky for us, we don’t have to.” He purred, looking the way he did when Yuri first brought him into the banquet room in Yutopia. Unlike that time, however, Yuri welcomed the warmth of Victor’s flirtation and turned to meet him, catching lips on his own.

Fingers dragged up through black coarse hair until they clutched the back of Yuri’s head, leaning him back on his elbows on the arm of the blue sofa. Silver hair trickled the edge of rouged cheeks as Victor’s kisses became more urgent as he lay overtop of Yuri’s body. Lips on tingling lips. Hands wading through hair to shoulders down to hand to intertwine for a moment as Victor raised Yuri’s arms above his head. Electricity lingered on the top of skin as each kiss found deeper and deeper territory until the bumps groves of taste buds circled around the other. Victor’s body was growling with want, savoring the touches deftly running on his shoulder blade.

A long clear thread of liquid chained their tongues as Victor pulled apart, gasping for a breath. The heat in his mouth started to chill through his deep inhale as he ran his fingers through those black locks, pushing Yuri’s hair into almost show fashion. He looked intently down into those shimmering brown eyes, the underneath red and glaring at him. “Do you…want to go to bed?” he asked, breaking for a moment between words.

_ I can feel he’s wanting to just as much as I am. But I have to know he’s ready. _

All the ideas he had when Victor asked him to tell him something that would “excite him” fluttered into his brain, and like before, he clenched his eyes shut to try and break through the images set on a reel displaying in his mind. All blood drained from his head and entered into a certain vessel, occupying his thoughts and ability to reply. He nodded. That’s all he could muster under the weight of feeling Victor’s body and the implications of his words.

Lips pressed against Yuri’s forehead soothing him of the precipice of panic circulating in his anxious mind. Victor rose up off of the couch, offering a hand to help Yuri off as well. _Maybe it will help Yuri if I make like it is a normal night. No expectations. Just him and I going to sleep like we have been. I’ve been sleeping on him since China, that’s no different. He gets so nervous. _

“Do you want me to find you something else to wear to bed, or are you comfortable in that?” Victor asked nonchalantly, trying to draw Yuri out of his thoughts as they reached the bedroom.

Brown eyes looked up at him confused for a moment before going back down over his ensemble. “Oh…ummm…I think I can make this work.” He offered, walking with Victor to the edge of the bed. He sat with a bounce on the white plush comforter facing the mirror over the dresser. His heartbeat thudded into his ears from the force of each rapid beat. _What am I doing?!? Am I really going to do this?!? I want to…I’ve wanted to. I just… don’t know what the hell I am doing. _

Going to shed his clothes, Victor unlatched his hand from Yuri’s grip, kissing his forehead before stepping off away from the edge of the bed. Before his stepped out of reach, a trembling but firm hand grabbed onto his forearm.

“Victor…” Yuri began, his body visibly shaking but his eyes resolute. No more words could come from his mouth, so he spoke with his body. He took the arm he held and pulled Victor to himself. Silver hair feathered as he stumbled with the jerk, awkwardly landing over his brown eyed partner. He planted his free arm in the side of the bed to hold himself steady and found those deep mahogany irises’ looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

_Wow, that look… _Victor could lose all sensation on the hinge of that look. He drank in the moment a second longer, leaning in to catch a gentle kiss. “I’m going to get into bed. You should, too.” He said, back away to peel out of his clothes.

Yuri’s eyes stared on a frozen gaze, watching the ridges of Victor’s back become visible as he reached underneath his sweater and yanked it off his head, neatly folding it on the ottoman on the wall. _Everything on Victor I’ve been too scared to touch._ Losing moisture in his mouth from the quickening of each breath, he swallowed deeply, standing up to remove the black sweatpants.

Seeing out of the corner of his blue eye, Victor grinned watching Yuri put his black sweatpants on the dresser along with his glasses. _He hasn’t been in his underwear unless he was drunk. Maybe he is ready. _Victor thought, keeping his back to the bed as he slowly removed his black belt from the loops of his pants, winding it to set next to his sweater. The pop of the brass button of his pants sounded louder in the quiet room than possible, the zipper even more so as Victor shed the last bit of outerwear from his toned pale frame.

Brown eyes dashed to the white comforter away from the ridges of Victor’s bikini briefs as he turned around to get on the unclaimed side of the bed. He pulled back the comforter and climbed in knees first, laying on his side to face Yuri, his blue eyes seeking to find his partner moving under the covers.

****************************************************************************************

A pale clammy hand ran up Victor’s arm until he settled on a shoulder. Victor returned the gesture, moving his arm to cup over Yuri’s cheek, inching him closer until his lips found his, pressing in gingerly as the hand that found his cheek snaked around to press a palm on the small of Yuri’s back, pulling him flesh against Victor’s chest. The jackhammer in Yuri’s heart vibrated against the bare chest, and Victor rubbed his hand up and down his back reassuringly.

Slow soothing movements of a palm running over his spine coaxed Yuri to a calm as he melted into the lips pressing and turning into his own. Feeling the ease of the rapid heartbeat, Victor pulled his other hand from under his side and under the soft skin on Yuri’s jaw. Deft fingers ran along, tracing the end of the line while holding into the kisses, responding to Yuri’s gentle reciprocation with tingling lips running over and under the curves of his mouth, drawing and pushing back, pacing the momentum as the build began to climb.

Red cheeks heated as the sensation of Victor’s lips pressing into his own as his hands pulled his body onto his own, driving Yuri further from his thoughts and into the moment. He dared let his fingers explore the supple pale flesh as his hand ran over Victor’s chest, earning him an exasperated gasp between kisses.

“Hah…” Victor breathed, feeling the soft fingertips moving over his peck and down each indent of muscle of his core above his naval. His hand ran up Yuri’s spine until he could grip into his black hair, the flex of his bicep covering Yuri’s face as he dove into his taste and rolled over, dragging Yuri’s thin frame on top of his own.

A leg draped over Victor’s torso as Yuri twisted his body until he sat on his hips, knees bent on either side of Victor’s thighs, their heads still locked by the movement of their lips. Hands went from woven through black hair to gripping into firm meaty thighs as Victor subtlety rolled his hips beneath them. He threw his head back, breathing heavily, letting Yuri up for air as well. Black spikes bounced in the uptake as Yuri sat upright, planting his hands palm first on Victors chest.

Yuri shuddered as he felt hands run up and down his thighs. Drinking in the sight of his fiancé wearing his shirt and just the hip hugging thigh tight boxers, Victor ran his hand from Yuri’s knee up his bar thighs, over his boxers along the side until he planted them firmly on either hip.

“This is the best view.” Victor purred, grasping firmly to his partners hip.

The redness of Yuri’s cheek was visible through the hall light shining under the closed door. He held a shaky breath, the sensation of Victor’s fingers moving along his sides overwhelming him. “R-r-really?” he managed to ask.

“Mhm…you’re beautiful, Yuri.” Victor said, leaning on his elbow to sit higher. His free hand reached to cup over the burning red face and draw him back in to taste his mouth once more. Tongues twisted and mingled as he laid back down, twisting to flip their positions as seamlessly as possible until he could stare down into those brown eyes. Yuri felt the wet heat leave his mouth and awaken a tingle with the press on his neck. The shudder of a gasp escaped from his mouth as the sensation of a tongue tracing from the nape of his neck to his ear sent shivers down his spine. Brown eyes went wide and shut under the feeling, moving his hand up to cover his mouth to muffle the sound.

Victor huffed a breathy laugh, heating the wet chilling trail he just left as he felt Yuri twitch as the moment. Hearing the breathy whimper at each new kiss on Yuri’s neck became a song for only Victor’s ear. He wanted more, though. He wanted to feel skin. Deft fingers traced down Yuri’s chest, finding the end of the black cotton and sliding underneath.

“Uhng…” Yuri’s voice rang over the back of his hand as the feeling of warm palms inched over his bare chest, pushing the fabric further with each exposed inch. Victor bided his time, moving to occupy Yuri’s mouth as his fingers explored over new territory. Each ridge of tones flesh discovered as fingers smoothed over the ridges, pushing up inch by inch until the rippled shirt found its home under Yuri’s chin.

Hands moved around to cup Yuri’s face once more, steadying the face to slow the lips back from the feverish pitch. Not able to understand what the slowdown was, Yuri tried to pull into the silver strands and quicken the pace once more. He felt the velvet touch of fingers move up his thigh, running over his boxers and send jolts to his center as they traced over his side, causing him to twitch with a jolt. Those fingers teased up and down both sides, getting within a centimeter of but never touching the center.

Sparks seemed to fly off Victor’s skin as he felt over every part of Yuri allowed to him. His thighs created friction as they rubbed together between Yuri’s, feeling the stiffness still contained by a layer of stretchy fabric between them. Yuri’s body reacted to every touch with a twitch and the whisper of a gasp exhaling hot breath into his mouth as tongues danced with one another.

Yuri’s body still trembled slightly as his wrapped his arms around Victor’s chest, finding the courage to run his fingers along the hot flesh of Victor’s back as he felt a gentle nudge against his center. Kisses continued as fingers traced up and down Yuri’s chest, claiming each of his abs is Victor’s own, lingering on the elastic band covering Yuri’s hips. A pinky finger slid over the edge of the band, back and forth until he felt Yuri’s lips kick on the side of his thigh. He smiled and laughed into their kiss, feeling an exasperated disappointed breath as he moved his fingers up his naval.

_Yuri, just tell me it’s okay. I’m not going to do anything with you shaking. _

Every part of Yuri’s scared body ached for Victor’s touch. Without realizing, his back arched as he felt just and index finger trace up his thigh and back down again, running back and forth at the edge of fabric still covering his leg. The barricade of thin fabric between them was becoming unbearable for either of them, but Yuri’s body still shook, and Victor wasn’t going to push anything further. He savored every twist and turn of Yuri’s body as he responded under his experienced touch. Yuri writhed and wiggled, the heat between leaving him breathless. All nerved in his body screamed in pleasure at the touch, and he fought everything in him to make more than a squeak.

_How can I tell Victor I want to if I can’t do anything without screaming or shaking? _He thought, jolting at the pressure of Victor’s hips pressing into his own. His mind went back to their first time sharing a bed, and Victor’s reassuring words.

_ “You’re going to have to tell me-or at least show me what you want so I don’t feel like I’m forcing all this on you.”_

_I…I have to show Victor I want…_

Perhaps on instinct, or perhaps from yearning, or just desire, Yuri reached his trembling hand over Victor’s, dragging his hand down his chest to the elastic band. Blue eyes shot up to try and catch the brown eyes before he could shut them. “Yuri…are you sure?”

Black spiked shuffled up and down against the soft pillows as Yuri nodded. “I…I…w-want..t-to…” Yuri stammered between breathless gasps, his body too overwhelmed to focus on words.

Supple lips plummeted into his own fast and hard before Victor snapped up, “It’s okay. Leave it to me.” He said, moving his arms under the fabric on Yuri’s shoulder to peel him out of his shirt. Relieved of one barrier of pesky clothing, Victor’s lips went back to kiss gently on Yuri’s chin, as chin became jaw, jaw became neck, lips pressing wet heat on Yuri’s newly exposed skin as fingers ran upward to run up and down his sides and over his fully bare chest, running a light touch over one of two round pink nubs on Yuri’s chest.

“H-hah---w-hat was that?” Yuri breathed as the sensation rippled through him causing him to jerk with a start.

Victor’s index finger circles around the pale pink flesh, “That…is a spot.”

“A-ah-spot?”

“Mhm. A place that causes you a lot of pleasure when touched. Like…right…here.” Victor spoke heated words into the nape of Yuri’s neck, causing hackles to raise on his neck as he gasped. “They’re a lot of fun. I’m going to find more.”

“M….more?” Yuri tried, entirely unraveled as hot lips pressed against his sides, followed by a hot tongue. Victor trailed his lick up Yuri’s side, turning to kisses once he found his core, moving back up to kiss over one nub while an index finger pressed into the other. Yuri squeaked as a round hard pink flesh sprang from each of the points on his chest, enveloping him in a pleasure that traveled to his core.

Knowing where the teases would end, Victor bided his time acclimating Yuri to the different feelings. He began knew kisses to occupy Yuri’s mouth instead of being covered by his arm while his hands felt over the flesh. He moved his legs to come out between Yuri’s thighs to lay on his side, allowing his hand more area to explore. Skilled fingers slid up Yuri’s thigh, rounding at the knee to go between his legs, inching up a little at a time before going back down, listening for Yuri’s breathing and heartrate to calm just enough to know it was because of pleasure and not panic.

Fingers traipsed over the top of the black boxers, Victor’s index finger barely touching the tip of Yuri’s arousal as he went through the same run on his thigh as before. Yuri’s breath quickened as the touch, stopping mid-kiss to gasp at the feeling. He twitched at the feeling of two fingers running along the edge, his center springing at the sensation of feeling the experienced hand begin his work. Suddenly, al the air left his long as he felt Victor’s whole hand run over his hardened flesh overtop his still clinging boxers. Not want to move to soon, Victor left his palm open as his rubbed gently over the top of Yuri’s center.

Brown eyes gaped open for a moment, his cheeks blushing at the feeling. _Victor’s…touching…my…_

_“Ngngh…”_ he moaned breathlessly, feeling all four fingers wrap around his stiff and throbbing center. Victor’s fingers moved up and down, tugging against the fabric until the scratchy fabric became too much.

Not wanting to expose Yuri before himself, Victor rose up on his tiptoes, arching just enough to grab onto the black fabric of his own bikini briefs and strip out of them. Feeling the emptiness of Victor’s removed hand, Yuri peeked out under his clenched lid to gain a full view of Victor’s pale, naked and very aroused body looming over him.

“Oh…uhm…” he stammered, his cheeks getting redder as he tried not to stare directly at the pink hued flesh in front of him.

_At least a three-inch difference…he wasn’t lying… I know I’ve seen it before he was like this…and I’ve felt it…but…wow… _

Victor smiled, snickering a laugh as he leaned in to steal a kiss, “Pretty great, right?” he said excitedly, his had trailing down to Yuri’s elastic band, daring to press two fingers beneath, pulling down slowly on the waistband “I bet yours is, too.”

All Yuri could do was breath heavily as the two fingers pulled down to release his center to the chilled air. He shivered a breath as his body felt the shock, lifting his leg so Victor could slide his boxers over and off his frame.

Embarrassed by his exposure, Yuri tried to bring his knees up over himself, turning his eyes away. Two strong hand clamped over either of Yuri’s knees, dragging them back down. “Yuurriii, let me see!” Victor whined, finally managing to put Yuri’s feet back on the bed even though his knees still stayed propped up.

Trying to soothe his shy partner, Victor laid on his side, placing his hand palm down over Yuri’s chest and stroking with his thumb. “Yuri, you look amazing!” he said, rolling onto his back and patting his hip, “Come here.”

Yuri quirked a brow but seeing the sincerity in those blue eyes he turned to once again climb onto Victor’s lap, sitting on the end of his thighs. Victor ran his hands over Yuri’s exposed body, starting at the knee and up to the chest before coming back down again. “Yuri, you know why I said I like this view? Because when you are up here, I get to see all of you. And I want every part of you.” He said, reaching up to trace down Yuri’s spine and grab a handful of plump round back end to pull him forward until both of their centers pressed together.

A small yip sounded from Yuri, but the shine in those blue half lidded eyes told the truth. Victor want him and Yuri wanted to give him every part.

“Ahhmng…” Yuri squeaked as he felt Victor’s hand wrap around his center. Nothing could quite describe the trembling ecstasy of feeling Victor’s hand stroking up and down, twisting at the top and maneuvering back down again. The heat of friction building with every pump, setting every nerve on fire with a violent electricity coursing throughout his body and with sparks at his center. Every turn of the firm tight grasp jolted Yuri forward until his palms were flat on Victor’s chest.

Victor drank in the sight of his partner’s first experience feeling someone else. No, feeling him. Each twitch earned from a stroke was a delight, every barely audible cry a song. He moved up and down, careful to keep a steady rhythm to not overwhelm too soon. The bright pink head dribbled a bit of wet clear fluid, and Victor used it to slicken his grip.

Lost to the world outside that moment, all Yuri could do was droop under the feeling overcoming all of his body. The electric jolts fused together, his toes curling and flexing into the mattress and everything below his naval became numb under the pressure….

“Ahhh!!!” Yuri sqeauled.

Victor’s hand froze in the motion halfway up, “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Brown eyes gaped down at him, “No…I can’t feel my legs!” he almost screamed.

Trying to hold in his laugh, Victor sat up, his silver strands spraying over his one eyes as he leaned to give Yuri a kiss, “That’s a good thing.” He said, wrapping his arms around them to cross his legs under Yuri so he could sit up and face Yuri straight. “Is this better?”

Yuri nodded, his shaking hands trying to reach out and grab onto Victor’s thighs, “What about…you? Do you want me to…” he gulped, not sure how to finish.

Victor lifted his stiff flesh to join against Yuri’s, gripping them together with both hands. “I just want to feel you. When you’re ready, you’ll join. Okay?”

“Oh-okay,” Yuri blushed, the rhythm thrown off by earlier quickly forgotten under the new sensation of flesh against flesh. Strong, experience hands rocked together, up and down, adding to the sensation of feeling both pink throbbing centers rubbing together under each thrust. Unable to hold himself under the electricity any longer, Yuri’s head drooped onto Victor’s shoulder as he heaved heavy gasps with every stroke as Victor worked them both feverishly.

“Ha…hah…ungg” Yuri’s labored breaths cried with the desperate sens of restrained ugency, ”Vi-Vi-Vic…”

Hearing the few barely discernable beginnings of his name, Victor knew the time was up. Sweat droplets beaded and dripped down the silver strands sticking to the edge of Yuri’s face as Victor brought their foreheads together so that those blue eyes could take in every sight, sound, and scent of Yuri’s first moment. Yuri rocked and twitched as the hot liquid ran out and over Victor’s finger as the waves of electricity jarred and vaulted through Yuri’s entire body as he came over the edge into his release. Seeing and feeling Yuri’s first reaction, it took only a few more pumps before Victor exploded with his own release, shaking a few pulses before falling into the pillows, pulling Yuri on top of him.

************************************************************************************************

Victor stroked Yuri’s back as he recovered, still twitching every few moments between heavy pants. He tried unsuccessfully to lift his head, brown hair damp with sweat smushing into Victor’s chin as Yuri plopped back down. “That...was...wow…was it…okay…for you?” Yuri managed to ask.

Strong arms wrapped around the small and spent frame, pulling him into a barely breathable embrace, “It was amazing! My Yuri is the best!”

“HappybirthdayVictor…”

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The blanket of sun cascading through the wide windows heated the comforter to a balmy temperature underneath. Too warm for comfort, lidded eyes lazily opened as the tack of sleepiness slit open and exposed the deep brown iris’s darting around to reclaim all senses. Tips of fingers perched on the top to push away the white cover slowly, revealing a bare frame to the chill of the room. Yuri shuddered, goosebumps popping over his naked body as he sat up to feel around, noticing the emptiness of the bed with just him in it.

“Huh? Where’s Victor?” he asked blearily to himself, scooching to the edge of the bed to grab his glasses off of the bedside table. Regaining his sight once more, he caught his reflection once more in the mirror. The sun’s reflection casting a spotlight in the upper corner, it looked as a new day in shining down on Yuri. Black hair glimmered in the glow, and Yuri cocked his head sideways as he looked over himself.

_Last night actually happened. Victor was right, I do feel different. Just…not how I thought. It was like when I found Eros. I guess it was Eros. Pleasure followed by pleasure… _Yuri thought, pulling the black sweats Victor let him borrow over his legs. He stared at his open chest, his fingers going back over all the places he could still feel tingling from Victor’s touch, Victor’s kiss, Victor’s own body over him. He smiled.

…_One just drowns in it. _

The aroma of percolated coffee beans hit Yuri before the bedroom door was even open. His senses immediately woke the rest of his still slightly slumbering mind as he stepped gently through the short hallway. Brown eyes peered into the kitchen area, looking around for any sign of silver hair. Finding none, he turned on heel to walk through the opening in the living area, hoping Victor would be sitting on the couch waiting for him.

_He’s not here, either. Where did he go? _Yuri tip toed over to the couch, finding the book from the night before resting on the closest cushion. Hand gently picked it up as Yuri thought to put the book back where it belonged. He pressed his fingers over the moss hued cover, feeling the thick binding and coarse texture. The memory that soothingly soft voice reading aloud felt like hearing a song through spoken words. Yuri stood on the tops of his toes, spinning to the words ringing aloud in his mind…until his arm knocked into the edge of the couch, sending the book tumbling to the floor.

“Shimatta!” Yuri cursed, falling on his knees to scoop up the overturned book. Luckily, nothing tore or wripped in the binding. Fingers tenderly wrapped around the edges of the overturned cover, bringing it up slowly as Yuri inspected for damage. _Nothing seems out of place…but what’s this? I didn’t notice it last night. _

The writing on the cover page looked like someone’s own penmanship. The script was fluid and circulating, but with enough variation that it couldn’t be printed from something. Yuri’s eyes scanned over the page, trying to make out the words:

_ À mon petit-fils, Victor:_

_Je souhaite que vous puissiez rester plus longtemps._

_Mais puisque vous ne pouvez pas, souvenez-vous toujours_

_mon petit-fils le plus doux:_

_Savoir qui vous êtes_

_Le monde extérieur n'est pas si cruel_

_comme ceux à l'intérieur de vos murs._

_Lorsque vous êtes prêt, montrez votre amour_

_Votre rêve est trop grand pour supporter seul_

_Tout mon amour,_

_Papy Revmir_

Yuri scratched the top of head through the sweat dried matted mess of black hair, looking at the scribbles like it were an ancient hieroglyphic for him to decipher. _I don’t know what language this is… French maybe? Victor has a lot of French things. The only word I recognize is Victor…and…Papy? Maybe father? _He thought, gingery inserting the book back to its proper place at the end of the third shelf. _I don’t have a clue… The more I learn about Victor the more I realize how much I don’t know. _

The front door squeaked open, the sound giving Yuri a momentary flight of anxiousness. His body flinched and twisted upward, and he all but ran into the hallway, his hand over his chest. Brown paws flung into Yuri, bowling him over onto his back on the floor as Makkachin’s curly fluff blanketed over him.

“Wharf!” the poodle barked excitedly.

“Makkachin…ahhh…Hiii…”Yuri giggled through the tickles of overzealous licks of Makkchin’s greeting.

“Ahhh…you’re up!” the voice he’d been waiting to hear finally spoke behind the closet. Victor hung his black coat, kicking out of his boots and walking over to stare down at his fiancé. The brown paper bag crinkled as he shuffled it of rest better on his hip, his blue eyes full of bliss. “I thought I’d get back before you woke up.” He said, offering his free hand to help Yuri back to his feet.

“I…I just got up a few minutes ago. What time is it?”

“Hmmm…probably around half passed ten. I’m not really sure. My phone was almost dead when I got up this morning, so I left it plugged in.” Victor said as he placed a cutting board from underneath the sink on the inner island. Yuri watched as Victor pulled the items from the bag. A large baguette, a pineapple with the head still intact, round batch of purple grapes, a melon of a type Yuri didn’t know, two clear mason jars filled with a yellowish orange and deep red gel, and a bottle of wine all emptied onto the shining metal countertop.

Yuri slid into the wooden fold-out seat on the other side of the counter, resting his elbows on the light wood table extending from the other side of the island. “Oh…I don’t even know where phone is.” He said, turning his head to look for where he might have left his device.

“It was on the couch. I found a spare charger and plugged it in.” Victor explained, pulling a long-serrated knife from the wooden block on the counter behind him. He grabbed the cylindrical bread and placed it on the chopping board, slicing into it every few inches.

“Oh…” Yuri said, “How long have you been up?”

“A few hours. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah…I think so. I don’t think I’ve slept that well…ever.” Yuri said, trying to remember even falling asleep.

_So, I can do something that curbs Yuri’s stamina…_Victor thought, wearing a knowing grin as he went through the rest of his bidding. The crumbles fell to the ground, creating a dust as Yuri felt a grumble deep in his stomach, gurgling out with such a violent echo Makkachin perked his ears up from his spot on the floor. Cheeks flushed red and Yuri clambered to cover over his midsection, as if hands could withhold sound. Victor grinned sweetly as he placed the sliced bread onto a silver baking sheet, pressing the oven to broil as he placed the pan and the contents within.

“I figured you’d be hungry.” He mused happily. Soft feet padded on the hardwood floor as Victor stepped around the island, wrapping his black sweater clad arms around Yuri’s still bare torso. “Last night was fun.” He said, stealing a quick kiss on the cheek before the red heat of Yuri’s blush could burn his lips. Silver strands caught like crystals in the sunlight, reflecting rainbows as he waltzed back around the island.

“Y-yeah…” Yuri stuttered. Weighting the balance between the pulsating intensity of the memory of last night and the lingering bits of his modest mind fluttering him with nerves and embarrassment, Yuri rubbed the back of his neck, shying away from looking at Victor directly. Instead, he found where his phone lay on the countertop, plugged into the wall.

Fruit squished and dribbled juice over the board through slices and dices of another silver knife Victor pulled from the same block. Yuri kept listening to the sound as he unplugged his phone from the charger and reclaimed his seat as before. Clicking the sidebar of the blue poodle case, he quickly thumbed the number password and began the usual crawl through social media.

“Phichit’s getting ready for Four Continents…” Yuri explained, eyeballing a photo of his former rinkmate in the motions of a spin. His thumb dragged over to the side to reveal the set of four pictures, each showing one, two, three, four, spins with the hashtag #salchowsuccess #readyfor4cc! “Ahhh, he landed the quad salchow, too!”

The last of the fruit pieces tumbled into the light blue glass bowl as Victor scraped them from the board with the dull edge of the knife. Gingerly, he placed the bowl over the edge of the counter far enough for Yuri to understand to reach and bring the bowl the rest of the way down to the table. “Wow! Four Continents will be exciting. It will be my first time going!”

Deep brown pools shimmered in thought as he watched pale hands rinsing the board and utensils with soap and water before placing them on the other side to dry. _That’s right, Victor won’t be a Euros this year, either. _Yuri went back to search through the limitless photos and posts on his news feed, scrolling through photo after photo until he felt his heart bungee jump out of his chest:

V-Nikiforov

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(Photo of Victor shirtless in bed smiling at the camera, his hand on top of Yuri’s head as he sleeps on his stomach, his back unclothed)

Liked by christophe-gc and 15,428 others

V-Niforov: Morning from St. Petersburg! #morningseaguls #morningbeauty

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christophe-gc: I look forward to Worlds now.

yuri-plisetsky: Are you idiots going to practice today?

“VICTOR!!” Yuri screeched causing Victor to drop the piece of toasted bread making it land back on the pan with a light crunch. The blue phone cause shook in the vibrating and anxious hands.

“What?” Victor asked, the concern growing as he marched a few steps over to lean behind Yuri’s trembling shoulder and peak at what caused such turbulence. “Oh, that!” he chortled a laugh and planted his lips through the black spikes on Yuri’s crown. “You are adorable when you sleep! I had to post it!”

“Everyoneisgoingtoknownow….”

“What? That we share a bed?” Victor wondered, placing the dropped piece of toast onto. He lifted each of the heavy ceramic plates in each hand as he rounded the island to place them on the table.

Only black strands of stuck out as Yuri buried himself into is arms, the sound of his groan suffocating the thud of the plate being place next to him, and the body sitting in the chair next to him. “Noo…..”

“Oh! You mean that we…” Yuri shot up with a start at the close proximity of Victor’s voice. Brown eyes darted over to find the piercing blue eyes giving him a sweet and highly amused expression in their gaze. A large opened palmed hand moved to caress along the small of Yuri’s back as Victor laughed. “Let everyone draw their own conclusion, Yuri.”

“They probably already do…”

“Mhm….There’s two types of jam… Peach and raspberry.” Victor told Yuri as he pointed to the two mason jars excitedly, “The market by the house doesn’t have a lot of the items needed for a traditional Japanese breakfast…we’ll have to go a bit further for anything like that.”

“For what?” Yuri asked, reaching for the clear jar with a tingle of yellowish orange gel he assumed meant it contained the peach jam.

“Katsudon, of course!” Victor’s arm waved in the air as he bit into his piece of toast with red jam slid over the top. “My Yuri won gold!”

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With stomachs filled on toast and fruit, the two relaxed into a rhythm of normalcy to Yuri. They sat shoulder to shoulder, much like the months before at Yutopia. “It’s much quieter than I remember, “Victor remarked, rising up to find containers for the leftover fruit and bread. “I got used to all the people around in Japan.”

Yuri held the two crumb coated plates in his hand as we walked to the sink, plunking them under the running faucet as he looked for any sign of dishsoap. “Yeah… it felt like that when I moved to Detroit…even in the offseason there’s always something going on at home. People still come to the bathhouse.” He commented, finding the bottle of liquid detergent on the side of the counter. 

A feeling of warmth wound around his midsection as Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri from behind, leaning in to press his lips further and further on the softly flushed cheek. Yuri twisted his head to look back as silky silver strands fluttered on his shoulder blade. Finding the blue eyes bright with sapphire bolts dancing in their light to dark ombre, he found himself without a thought outside of the ocean in those eyes. Lids came over the blue eyes as Victor leaned in to coax a kiss from Yuri’s lips.

“The clothes should be ready to go in the dryer. I put them in from the suitcases on my way out.”

“You washed my clothes?!?”

“Mhm… I was doing mine anyways. As much as I like seeing you in my clothes…” Victor purred as his lips pressed into Yuri’s ear, his voice singing with the deep sounds of seduction, “I thought you might want some of your own today.”

Long pale fingers stretched out over the black fabric clinging on Yuri’s hips, inching over the rounded bump just beneath the waistband. The feeling still strange but exciting, Yuri kept rinsing the dish as he felt the hand run back and forth, lingering a moment at the seam splitting the pant in the middle before moving to stroke the other side.

Each breath deepened further and quickened in release as Victor applied wet heat to the top of Yuri’s shoulder. He kept his hand circling over the firm back end as each kiss inched further towards Yuri’s neck. To his surprise, he saw Yuri tilt his head, granting him access to that favored spot on his neck. The salt of last night’s sweat still remained on Yuri’s skin, but Victor invited the taste as his tongue circled and tease over that spot.

“Yuri…”

“Hmm?” Yuri tried his best to feign ignorance, continuing to wind the rag over the plate in front of him.

Victor huffed a laugh into his neck, “I think that plate’s clean.” He quipped, giving one final peck on that spot, and a gentle pat where his hand was behind before stepping off to wipe off the counters. He heard the water finally shut off and the clink of glass against metal, letting him know Yuri finished the plates.

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The clear plastic bag containing Yuri’s travel necessities rested on the white countertop of the bathroom sink. Brown eyes looked opaque in the reflection as he hunched over to search for his toothbrush buried somewhere in the container. Deodorant, gel, a comb, his blue and white contact case, clear bottles he knew stored his shampoo and conditioner all lined up on the edge of the case. He sighed and resigned to dive his hand in, rummaging until he found the thin oval plastic container. The capped opened with a pop as he used his other hand to twist the nozzle on the faucet, running water over the soft bristles. Eyes scanned over the clean countertop, seeing only a white shell shaped ceramic soap dispenser on the pristine surface. _I don’t even know where the toothpaste is. I’ll just use my travel on and ask Victor later. _

All white and freshened with a minty taste in his mouth, Yuri gingerly treaded over the plush white bathmat to the circular tub. He twisted the gold metal handles, trying to adjust the temperature like Victor had showed him yesterday. _Which one was hot? OUCH! Okay, it was that one. _

The tips of toes dipped into the basin as Yuri pulled the soft white linen curtain. The sound of the shower spicket spewing water and streaming forward cut through the silence. Steam rolled off Yuri’s shoulders as he sank into the heat of the water, tilting his head back to lean into the flow. He reached for the bottle he assumed was shampoo, squirting a dime size of a purple opaque substance onto his hand before massaging it into his scalp. _I wonder how much his shampoo costs. I’ve seen the price of the Chanel lip balm he uses…I don’t even know what he can afford. What can I afford? _

Between the rushing water and the volume of his own thoughts, Yuri didn’t hear the knob turn, or the door squeak open.

“HEY, YURI…WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO TODAY?” Victor asked in a normal tone, looking down at his phone. But to Yuri, the normal volume screamed into the quiet of the bathroom.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” he shrieked, throwing the curtain out as he heaved for a breath. “Victor, what are you doing?!?”

“You couldn’t hear me outside the door, so I came in.” he smiled.

“I’m in…I could have been…”

Victor looked up from his phone and stepped closer to where his wet fiancé stood shivering and bewildered. “I didn’t think you’d mind. We’ve been naked in the bathroom together before…” Blue eyes scanned up and down slowly over the pale physique in front of him, “I like this look. You should wear it more often.” He said, turning around to leave Yuri back to his shower.

“What look?” Yuri balked, “Victor?!? I’m not wearing anything!!!”

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Somber grey clouds covered the resonance of any sun, leaving the concrete bare of shadows even with the mid-day hour. Brown leather shoes scuffed against the granular texture of the sidewalk as Yuri tried to catch up with Victor’s rapid pace.

“…And this is what I was telling you about!” Victor exclaimed, his voice tilting on the thrill of showing off his city. His right hand fully enveloped into Yuri’s; he raised his left to point at the mint painted building.

Deep winded breathes heaved into and out of Yuri’s chest, taking him a moment to look beyond the ground to where Victor’s enthusiastic tone called to. “Jusst..ha..a…second…” he said through gritty sighs, pulling his hand to his chest as the fire of frosted air burned in his lungs. Cautiously, black sprigs of hair fell backward with each inch Yuri allowed until his head once again faced upright. No longer starving for oxygen, he looked passed the silver locks of hair swaying against a gentle breeze. His jaw dropped. “Woow!!!! This place is…”

Two arms snaked around Yuri’s shoulder, winding him into Victor’s hug. His head flattened the lapel of Victor’s white button up shirt, the deep v-neck burgundy striped sweater warming Yuri’s cheek as Victor held him close, nuzzling the top of Yuri’s head with his own. “The Hermitage has a lot of beautiful buildings, but none more so than the Winter Palace.” Victor explained, pulling away to find Yuri’s hand once more and stow their clasped fingers in his coat pocket. Brows eyes glowed their brilliant shade of mahogany as they took in the grandeur of the palace. The sheer size of it was beyond Yuri’s line of sight, and he tilted his head up to see the giant white stone pillars bolting from the top of the third story to the first, joined with another pillar for the first. The singular set of pillars stretched from end to end until joining in pairs at the entrance, holding in place centuries of history.

Each pace up the steep stone steps Yuri tried to take in the outside architecture. Like most of the places in St. Petersburg he had seen, The Hermitage carried the essence of a time no longer remaining. Eloquent curved white edges framed each of the windows, with ornately carved and painted gold in the center. _Victor probably likes all of this gold on the windows and pillars, it fits him. All of the sculptures on the roof, too. _Yuri thought, bracing himself as Victors pale graceful hands pulled open the green door.

Stepping through the threshold felt like stepping through a time portal. Even with the check in desk just ahead of the pair, Yuri stared slack jawed at the enormous pillars stuck together in fours in the center on the grand room.

“The velvet on the benches are amazing!” Victor mused, guiding Yuri and himself up to the ticket kiosk and visitor center. “I should use that color of red in one of my outfits…”

“Do you know what you are going to wear for your programs already?” Yuri asked hesitantly as Victor went through the motions of purchasing the tickets in Russian. _I should probably try to learn some of the language. I have no idea what they are saying. _

“Spasibo.” Victor flashed his charismatic grin to the young woman at the checkout as he thanked her, taking his card from her hand to pocket it in his billfold. The lady flushed and looked away, muttering something under her breath to the older woman clerk next to her.

Brown eyes dashed between the three of them, trying to piece together the words spoken like a shredded jigsaw puzzle in the dark. The girl caught his gaze and he tried to give his best smile despite not knowing and of the context. He tugged on Victor’s coat and asked, “Neh, Victor…what’s going on?”

“They recognized us.”

“Us?”

“Yes, both of us. They’re fans, Yuri.” Victor said, elbowing Yuri’s side as a reminder to perk up.

Yuri gave a nervous wave, “Sp-Spasibo.” He said meekly, tightening his grip on Victor’s hand still secured into the warmth of his coat pocket. He felt lips against his forehead, calming him while simultaneously making his cheeks flush. Brown eyes upturned to see the passionate polls of blue, and his nerves fizzled in the safety of knowing Victor was at his side.

Briskly pacing through the twists and turns of the entrance halls, Yuri barely caught a glimpse passed the pale-yellow walls and white fixtures. The floor became a blur of black and grey checkers, poking out like an off-kilter chess board. An abrupt stop left him face to face with the ghostly bust of a blunt snout man with curly chiseled hair. Empty white bulging eyes met squarely causing Yuri’s brown eyes to widen as the dread of an eerie quicker running down his spine. One, two, three steps backward and he backed into Victor’s side, the edges of his blue peacoat flailing outwards with his arms.

Victor turned just in time to catch Yuri by the inside of his arms as Yuri propelled his behind into him with a thud. “Ooof… Yuri? What’re you?” he looked up to spy the stone head that spooked his fiancé and chortled into the air. He hoisted Yuri’s thin body up and planted him in front of him, draping his arms over Yuri’s shoulder as he rested his chin on his favorite place by the nape of his neck. “Look.” Victor’s breath heated the back of Yuri’s ear as he spoke.

At the end of the aisle before them, fixed at the end of two more sets of four great white roman pillars fitted between the light-yellow paint, poured a grand staircase out into the archway where Yuri and Victor stood. No words formed at the end of a gasp as Yuri could only gape, peering into the wide stretching staircase, veering off in two directions at the top of the first level. Velvet red fabric stretched over each step, Yuri feeling the plush under his shoe as he walked up hand in hand with Victor.

Bulbous lights lit the path, shining out from the gold painted finely sculpted stone sticking from the top of the columns and archway. The accolade’s design over top turned and bended in its design. Bare-chested busts of men and women lined the inner walls of the staircase between gold speckled frames against the pure snow hue of the wall.

Yuri felt a gentle squeeze of his hand as Victor leaned over the top of the balcony, stretching his torso over to examine the stairwell from their new perspective above. “The Jordan Staircase is really something. Just imagine all the kings and queens and princes and princesses who walked here, Yuri! All the parties!” Victor’s silver hair fluttered with the excitement bursting with each new thought.

All the extravagance of the architecture couldn’t hold Yuri’s attention the way Victor’s blue starlight eyes did when they twinkled with thrill. _Victor doesn’t just look like he’s visiting here. He looks like he belongs here. Everything is gold. _Yuri thought, turning his gaze from the silver strands of hair out to the bannisters. “Mhm!” he agreed.

“And the weddings!” Victor mused, pulling Yuri into a side hug as his mind rang with visions.

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The windings of the seemingly endless streams of rooms and architecture and art baffled and amazed Yuri as he wandered through the Hermitage Museum with Victor as his guide. Blue eyes held the tingling feeling of wonder as he got to view the often-visited place through Yuri’s new eyes. _Everything is the same since returning to St. Petersburg with Yuri, but different, fresh. _

Silver locks floats up against his cheek bone, falling between black strands as Victor nestled against the top of Yuri’s hair, his arm wrapped around the waist of the dark blue peacoat to pull Yuri close against his chest. The chill of the stone bench quickly worked its way through their pants, only making Victor spoon closer to keep the warmth of their bodies heating each other as they say looking out on the inner garden.

“I sat here the night before I decided to go to Japan.” Victor said quietly, staring out at the stone sculptures ahead of him.

“Really?”

“Mhm. I came with Makkachin to try to find inspiration.”

“Did you find it?”

“I found you.” Victor said. He raised his hand to brush against Yuri’s cheek, stroking the cold flesh with his thumb. Gently, he brushed his lips against Yuri’s, sharing a yearning but brief kiss before shrieks pulled them both out of the moment.

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! VICTOR NIKIFOROV!!!!!!” the shrill sounds of a young female rivaled Minami’s squeak as the girl hollered from the outer bush.

A pleasant smile rushed over Victor as the subtle groan of annoyance fell from Yuri’s lips. “Privet!!!” Victor called back through the heart shaped mouth happy with the attention. He rose up to meet the gaggle of girls giggling things in Russian as Yuri watched from the now almost freezing stone bench in the absence of Victor’s warmth.

“Eto tvoy zhenikh?” (Is that your fiancé?) Yuri heard the blonde girl whose voice stole Victor away from him.

Victor turned and gestured to where Yuri sat before speaking, “Da. Eto moy Yuri.” (Yes, that’s my Yuri.)

The dip of a button nose tried to hide inside the grey scarf as Yuri felt their eyes turn to him, the group of girls let out a loud squeal with a few exclamations of, “Vau tak povezlo!” (Wow, so lucky).

“Spasibo!” he said, signing a few of the leaflets and taking a couple of photos before wishing them well and excusing himself.

_Victor’s always so nice to his fans. He loves the applause. Minakosensei drooled over him…making drunken jokes about me giving her the hotel room numbers. But when he came…she stopped. I wonder why. _

Victor swooped over and plopped next to him, wrapping him into the embrace and kiss he left minutes before, pressing deeply into Yuri’s lips until he felt the singe on heat from the flush of cheeks on his own.

_I guess maybe I know why…_

_._

_._

_._

_._

Barren trees whizzed in a shadowed haze through the window as Yuri watched the melting horizon of dusk settle into nighttime. He tried to keep his eyes settled on the houses and buildings blackened silhouettes instead of the jarring movements of the accelerated blue BMW Victor drove erratically weaving through the highway traffic.

A pass of tall towers in the distance replaced Yuri’s view by the near miss of a beat-up nameless sedan. Pale hands steered like the road was a game of darts but everywhere first was the target. Yuri reached his hands to cover his eyes before seeing the next cause for a blaring horn. “V-Victor… is this really safe?”

“Huh?” Victor asked, not really hearing the question through his inner curses at the traffic before him.

“You...drive…”

Blue eyes turned to see Yuri’s brown eyes peeking between the parting of two fingers on his covered concerned face. He reached over to place a strong grip on Yuri’s blue jean clad thigh, rubbing his thumb at the inseam. “Yuri. Calm down. We’re fine.”

The strum of Victor’s thumb relaxed Yuri from his anxiety and he slowly retracted his hands from his face. “We didn’t drive a lot in Hasetsu. Minako-sensei had a…..VICTOR…TOMARIMASU!!!!”

_SCREEECH_

Even the interior smelled of burnt rubber at the quickness the car stopped. Victor and Yuri bounced forward towards the dash as the car halted within an inch of the burgundy SUV that Yuri caught veering into their lane a second before they could collide. Blue eyes blinked a few times at Victor spotted the reason he had to brake. He looked to Yuri who heaved long breaths trying to quell his nerves. “See? It’s fine.”

_._

_._

_._

_._

“This place is so cool!” Yuri exclaimed, his eyes traipsing over the icy snow drifts tucked into the sides of the circular outdoor rink. He clung to Victor’s elbow as they exited the entrance, already clad in their skates. “I thought you said we were going to practice at the rink?”

Gold blades etched into the frozen shimmering pond, catching the hints of red, blues, greens, and whites reflecting from the show lights of the outdoor rink bearing different colored hues, dying the ice and the thick woods surrounding in the led lite shades. Two hands interlaced with Yuri’s pulling his silver blades to glide along the ice to the center. Victor’s blue eyes still seemed to dazzle amidst the spectacle of lights as he spoke, “I did…but this seemed more fun! Ohta Park only lights up like this during this time of year. See all the trees!” he pointed out, nodding to the trees reflected.

The glittering white lights wound around all of the small evergreens framing around where they skated, twinkling like stars against the other shades of light swirling together on the tops of the bushy narrow limbs of the mountainous trees. “Mhhhmmm!” Yuri replied, his brown eyes glimmering with stars in their own right as he skated hand in hand with Victor. The parse amount of people didn’t seem to catch the silver hair amidst all the other colors, and for once, Victor meshed with the crowd. Not that it mattered whether anyone spotted him, he was content in watching over Yuri as they circled around the main part of the rink.

Excitement rushed over Victor with child-like happiness, and he broke free of Yuri and skated towards the center. The few remaining people on the rink veered closer to the edge, feeling the oncoming slick swishes of a skater before a move. Silver hair waved behind him as he rounded the edge, lifting with a toe pick assist and springing four turns in the air.

“Quad flip!” Yuri clapped, watching intently on every curve and movement the man mad as he came around. Muscular arms extended in the slide, grabbing at Yuri’s waist and lifting him into the air, the breeze sprawling his black hair every which way through the turn. “Victor!” Yuri gasped, shocked at the sudden spin. “What’re you…”

“This way!” Victor let out a bellowed laugh, his sweater rippling as his abdomen shook with joy. He gripped Yuri’s hand and drug him to a narrow offshoot of the main rink. Gold and Silver blades scratched on the winding surface through a bed of trees. It looked to Yuri like a frozen stream, and he gasped at the beauty of skating between the dark forest. Blue eyes caught the moonlight as Victor spun around to face Yuri, cupping his cheek to draw his lips closer to his own. Brown eyes closed at the feeling of chilled lips meeting his, warming with every twist as they shared a few kisses in the dark.

Flakes of snow drifted off the bristled trees and landed on the tip Yuri’s nose, melting with the heat as Victor kissed the snow with his lips. “Perfect? Right?” Victor asked, keeping his hand rubbing against Yuri’s cheek as he spoke the words almost directly into those pale lips in front of him.

“Mhm. I’ve never seen a place like this!” Yuri exclaimed as Victor began to guide them. Their blades scratched through the curves and through the islands of trees cut off by the thin lines of frozen water.

“I used to come here all the time with my- Makkachin.” Victor paused, looking up to the moon while he relaxed the knot in his throat, “He’d run up and down the snowdrifts while I practiced when I was a teen.”

“You’ve had Makkachin a long time.” Yuri commented. _I got Vicchan after Victor had Makkachin. _

“Mhm. Since I was 14.”

“I see.” Yuri’s mind drifted to Vicchan, the memories plaguing his mind. _I just wanted to see him one more time…_

Though unseen, Victor could sense the tinge of heckles running on Yuri’s arm as tears welled in his duct. Trying to diffuse the moment, Victor brought his phone out of his pocket and thumbed the passcode as he asked, “Do you want to hear the song for my short program?”

Brown eyes shot up in the dim glow of the phone screen, the grief fading into fanatical amounts of enthusiasm. “Can I…yes! Of course!” he exclaimed, weaving his arm into the crux of Victor’s where he held his device. A pale hand hovered over the playlist, scrolling before finding the word “Aerith” on the title. He pressed play and silence filled with the soft slow twine of wind instruments, a violin joining at the rise as a piano lead the dance of music forward.

<https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=WVJdv-s9QWg&list=PLN7W9U2jU8oiixszHWZmJvvhxhRv9bPtS>

Aerith’s Theme “Final Fantasy” beginning to 2:30

Yuri listened to the understated peck of the piano prancing over the orchestrated lullaby. “What is the theme?” he asked, winding through the trees as flecks of moonlight shone down.

“On love: Storge. What did you think when you heard it?”

Yuri thought on the varying tones and watched the imagery play before him. “It is… light and giving but also forceful and cold. I’m not sure…” _Victor is a genius. I know whatever he thinks it means he will create a program that will surprise everyone. _

“Storge is the love shared between family, Yuri. Parents and their children. Siblings to each other.”

“Oh. I could hear that. The light music reminds me of Mari-neechan and my mom and dad. But then…it is different.”

“What story did you see in it?” Victor asked, his eyes looking down to see the thoughts bubbling in the brown pools.

“Mmm_…_ I could see the love, but it was like in chains. Bound but not completely realized as such…like something dark ripped apart the love….I…don’t know. I don’t think I’m making any sense.”

A reassuring hand patted over where Yuri held on to Victor’s arm as he spoke, “You are…I just like to hear your interpretation.”

Yuri crinkled his nose, unsure of what the answer meant, “What is the song to you?”

“A feeling… and seeing the love between you and your family gave me a great sense of storge. It’s really great!” Victor exclaimed, his voice oozing with enthusiasm as he wrapped both his arms over the blue peacoat and pulled Yuri in close.

“Oh.” He said, muffled as his face smushed into Victor’s face.

“I love my cute little Yuri!!!!” Victor swooned, nuzzling into the black threads and squeezing tightly.

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Of the few things in life that felt universal, the look of a supermarket grocery was one of them. Hordes of neatly placed fruits and vegetables lined in rows in their cooler baskets along the wall. Yuri’s hands pushed the steel cart, still warming from where they acquired it outside. The bright colored signage read words that Yuri could not translate, but he stared at them each in hopes that something would make sense.

Blue eyes looked over from where he examined the light pinkish orange fruit in his hand for ripeness, to the brown eyes squinting at the object in front of him. “It’s a peach.” He said flatly.

Yuri’s eyes pressed a little more at the small rounded label stuck to the fruit. “I was trying to read what it said.” He explained intently, still staring in front of him.

Victor looked from the label to his fiancé and back again, “It says, “peach”, Yuri”

Rose petals seemed to crush and bleed over Yuri’s cheeks as he flushed, looking down to his shoes. “Oh.”

Victor put the peach in the plastic bag and waltzed over to the array of squashes in the corner, “Don’t worry, Yuri. You just got here. We’ll work on learning each other’s first languages together! A lot of people don’t know Russian!”

“They don’t teach it in school like they do English.” Yuri sulked, resting his elbows on the edge of the cart.

“Mhm…” Victor agreed, holding two purple eggplants in the air as he turned to Yuri, “Which one?” he asked, smiling innocently.

Brown eyes scanned over both, noting nothing effectively different save for size. “I like the bigger one better.” He said, pointing to Victor’s left hand.

A devilish grin seeped out of the corner of Victors mouth as his eyes darkened sapphire. He kept his gaze with Yuri as he placed the squash gently into the top of the cart, his hand brushing over the top of Yuri’s as he leaned, “Of course…it feels great, too.”

The flushed cheeks deepened a crimson as Yuri balked, “Hah?” he asked, smiling innocently at Victor through his stammering tones.

“Now, what do we need to make katsudon?!” Victor questioned, sighing a triumphant breath knowing what he placed in Yuri’s mind.

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“VKUSNO!!!!” Victor cheered, a hint of cherry flushing over his cheek as he sipped from his cup, the blood orange liquor pouring through the crushed ice. “This is called a bees knees, Yuri! You want to try some?” he asked, raising his glass to where his fiancé sat next to him in the yellow striped fabric of the booth.

Embers flickered from the white bricked fireplace, cracking and sparking as the burst of wood turned to ash, bring a surge of warmth to the dim lit bar. Brown eyes moved from where they stared at the various photos of boats that adorned each side of the fireplace, to the drink offered from Victor’s hand. “Oh, ummm… I don’t…” he stuttered.

Silver strands flashed against the firelight as ice-blue eyes pierced into the deep mahogany, as Victor turned to lean into Yuri, almost touching noses tip to tip. His voice sang smoothly, “Yu-ri! We took a cab here. You can’t drive anyways, right?”

“R-right.” Black hair fell behind as Yuri inched backwards, his elbows resting in the seat as he scuttled away.

Only spurred forward, Victor raised up on one knee to bridge the gap between them. “There’s no competition tomorrow, right?”

“Y-y-yes…but I…?”

“But what?”

“But I always turn into a fool when I drink!” Yuri stated, his arms pushing Victor back to sitting by his shoulders.

“You say fool…I say fun!” Victor shrugged, taking another drink from the nectar in his glass.

A groan gurgled from clenched teeth as Yuri rested his elbow on the table, taking his cheek in his hand. “That’s not what the photos show…” he whined. His eyes grazed past Victor to the vintage velvet burgundy seats and hardwood rustic tables placed in fours around the double wide fireplace. Each table contained a wildflower in a small square vase as the centerpiece, a black menu with the photo of a lion next to it. A few people passed by the arched windows, pulling their coats over themselves to shield the frigid winds. _I’m glad I’m indoors. Victor’s drink does look delicious…but I don’t want to go off the rails… I just…_

A soft hand landed on his thigh as lanky deft fingers traced up over Yuri’s knee, making a subtle scratching sound over his knee. The class clinked, ice hitting the rim as Victor swirled it in his unoccupied hand, resting his elbow on the dark table in front of them. “No one is here to take pictures…it’s just you and me.” He spoke with the light lilt of seduction and happiness, the alcohol unfurling in his blood.

Yuri nodded, the sensation of an index finger circling his thigh already making his cheeks the color of ripened apples anyways. “O-okay. Just…one drink.”

The white long ceramic plate only maintained a few speckled crumbs, bits of bacon bouncing as the fourth empty glass slung into it with a clink. “O-heec-psie!” Yuri managed to say as he clumsily tried to set his drink on the table. “This is really good!!!!”

Silver strands tickled against Yuri’s soft cheek, ruffling with the nose nuzzling as Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri’s waist. His thumbs drug beneath the thin cotton of Yuri’s eggshell hued sweater, grazing over the rim of flesh just over his pant line. “MMM….I love your cute little tummy, Yuri!!!” he purred, catching a kiss on that cheek.

The ends of Yuri’s toes kicked and splayed, still safe in the confines of his shoes. “Victor…” Yuri managed through a fit of giggles, “That tickles!” he squealed. Victor found this more of an excuse to fit more fingers under Yuri’s sweater, fidgeting on his side until they both collapsed onto the booth’s seat. The red and brown striped pillow tumbled over Victors body, springing up and down by the bellowing echoes of muffled cackling underneath.

The ruckus of laughter spilled out in sound over the table and over every other possible commotion as the pair laid captured in the hilarity of drunken slurs and giggles.

“EHEMM!” a deep voice grunted and coughed, getting Victor’s attention with a snap. He lifted his head, spying with an irritated blue eye over the table to see a tuxedo clad waiter, carrying two dark drinks with a white foam at the top. “From ze gentleman in black suit at ze bar” the perturbed waiter gestured over to a man leaning sideways against the black table.

“A white Russian?” Victor nodded in thanks to the waiter as his eyes scanned over the man waving with his own dark drink in hand. _Black suit…really nice black suit...dark gradient shaved hair styled with a swoop…tan skin…ordered Yuri and I a white Russian...who is- _“Oh! Petyr!” Victor shot up in his seat, his sweater bunching at the end where it clung to his white button up underneath. A pale arm stretched and lifted, waving sporadically, “Izvinite! Petyr!” he called, beckoning the man forward much to Yuri’s confused chagrin. Brown eyes narrowed as he sat full upright lazily, looking at the new odd drink in front of him.

The firelight cast stripes of shadows over the figure as he sauntered over from the bar area and planted himself in the velvet chair, his long legs folding over each other under the table. He clasped his brawny hands over his cup, holding it warily as if the force from his thumbs alone could shatter it to shards. Brown hair splayed backwards as he craned his head to the side, drawing a grin on the size of his pouted lips, “Victor Nikiforov. Fancy meeting you here after all this time, neh?” his voice rang a deep soulful draw that reminded Yuri of some of the old American Southern Gospel music one of his rinkmates skated to in Detroit.

“Petyr… How’s it going?” Victor said nonchalantly, crossing his arms over himself and leaning back into the cushion behind him.

“Always well…but you know that.” The man responded, his accent barely distinguishable in his tone, tipping his drink into the air before throwing the glass backward, taking in a long stream of liquor with one gulp. 

Two small arms wound into Victor’s left where he had his still crossed. “Victoruu...” Yuri whined, his brown eyes shimmering as he looked up to Victor for validation through the liquor drowned lenses.

“Ahhh…this must be the famous fiancé. Yuri, right?” Petyr asked, crooning over the table and placing his elbows over the top. His dark eyes met the brown, staring intently as he sized Yuri up.

“F-famous?” Yuri balked, looking to find Victor’s eyes for clarity.

“In certain circles, certainly.” Petyr stated emphatically. He dashed a daring smile at Victor, his brown eyes melting to ash like the fire next to them. “You’re a good skater, I’m sure you have your share of fanfare.”

“Umm…heecup…y-yeah. My hometown….” Yuri muttered, taking his hand back from Victor’s arm to rub his hand together. He lifted the cup in front of him and sucked half the white Russian down.

“Oh, a lightweight.” Petry sputtered a deep huff of a laugh as he relaxed into the velvet seat. “That’s new, Victor.”

Victor sprang a well of laughter, leaning to wrap his arm around Yuri’s waist again as took a sip from his own glass. “Yuri’s doing great!” Victor smiled into his fiance’s cheek, ignoring Petyr’s comment. “I really see so much potential in him. He’s going to win gold at Four Continents!”

“I’ve paid attention. A lot of new of the two of you all over the internet.” The man said, his eyes casting darkly over to Victor’s ice blue shards piercing into his in turn. He took another sip from his drink, spinning the large chunks of ice as his eyes turned from the glass over to Yuri. “You let this one come home with you?”

“Of course, he’s my fiancé.” Victor spat back dryly, his eyes coolly stiffening as his rubbed his thumb where he held Yuri’s waist.

A soft hand planted on Victor’s thigh and Yuri tured his hips to sit almost sideways, his chin resting on the tender threads of Victor’s sweater hanging on his shoulder. “Vic-Victoruu…stay...with me in Hasetse. We…heecup…already lived together.” He said, his cheeks flushed and brown eyes shimmering. “Are you a skater, too?” he asked, his heart beginning to race as the alcohol drove further and further into his drunken mind.

“Oh no. I’m not the sort. I’m much more evil than that. Corporate law and management of public relations.”

“A---law-heecup-yer?”

“Mhm…the worst. Started young and never looked back. Almost ten years. I was still an intern when I met Victor.”

“B-Bictor…” his eyes drained into muddy waters as he gazed longingly into Victor’s blue eyes, his hand cupping further in the side of his thigh. “Why did you need a lawyuuuurrrr?”

“I- erm…”

“He didn’t need a lawyer. Any person with fame needs someone to bounce legal jargon off of. Contracts. Finances. What not. The hottest bachelor in the world certainly…” Petyr interjected, trailing off as he watched Yuri press his lips on Victor’s cheek, drawing back slowly. “Well, _was_ the hottest bachelor in the world…”

“Bictoruuu…you’re my coach, right?” Yuri whined, trying and failing to whisper into Victor’s ear. He cupped the edge of Victor’s jaw with his hand, his brown eyes in their drunken shimmer.

“Okay, Yuri. It’s time to go.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***** for Smut

Chapter 9

_Bing_

The crack of the elevator door opened, releasing two stumbling persons to the third floor. Silver hair washed over the side of Yuri’s blue peacoat as he draped himself over the man’s shoulder. Two steps forward, one step to the side, then finally one rush of a burst and the both of them found the door.

“W-wait. I have to get my key!!!!” Victor plunged his fingers into his pocket, pulled the silver key, and let out an astonished gasp as if he found treasure. The silver key shook as Victor fumbled to get the key into the lock hole. His eyes became occupied by the blur of twirls and black hairs spinning on toes in the hallway. Stuck on the bends and curved of Yuri’s body as he danced, Victor’s hands went to autopilot, unlocking the door his hazy mind could not figure out.

With a whoosh, the door unlatched and opened, thrusting Victor through the door with a start. The jerk was enough of a jolt to bring some sense of sobriety in his inebriated brain. Whines and wiggles surrounded him as Makkachin leaped and barked with enthusiasm for his return home. Fingers wound in the permed brown fur, kneading from neck to floppy ear as Victor returned the affection to his happy poodle. “Yuri, I’ve got to take Makkachin out. The door is open, now.” He called, following his pup as Makkachin bounded through the elevator doors.

A frigid white crust of frost had begun layering on the sidewalk as Victor stepped carefully, crunching the bits of ice on the sun-dried red cement of the outdoor commons behind the building. Makkachin immediately went for the square of green shrubbery in the center of the square, nose to ground in search of the perfect spot. The back of his coat chilled as he leaned against the apartment building, looking up to the bursts of tiny white stars above him. A cloud of white extinguished from his lips as he breathed a heavy sigh, thinking back to when they left the bar.

_ Victor put most of Yuri’s weight on his shoulder, wedging his arm around his waist to help the walk to the entrance of the coat check. A heavy sigh expelled from his lips as he tried and failed to get his billfold with the check stub contained within, flipping it open only for the wallet to snap back. _

_ “Here, let me.” Petyr offered, reaching his hand over Victor’s shoulder where stood four inches above him. He opened the wallet enough so Victor could pull the white slip from the center of his billfold, holding it out for the man to take. “I’m surprised you didn’t call me when you came back.” Petyr said, passing the white slip to the petite woman in a teal smock. She turned to rummage for the coats as Petyr glanced over his shoulder, watching Victor brush away the strands of coarse black hair out of Yuri’s eyes. “I guess maybe not.” He said, thanking the clerk for the coats and walking the beige and blue over to drape on Victor’s outstretched arm. _

_ Victor gave an innocent smile, “We only got to St. Petersburg yesterday.” He explained, pulling Yuri’s rubber-like arms through the armholes of his coat. The beige coat flailed in the wind as he shrugged into it, making his way through the entrance out into the street. The blistering Russian winds cut through the meager layer of winter air, chilling them through their core as Victor stepped inward to try to shield some of the blast from his shivering fiancé. “We’re going to have to get you some warmer winter wear, Yuri.” He mused, pulling his phone out with his bare hands, the glint of gold on his ring finger catching a shine in the streetlight. _

_ Thick brown brows raised up at the sight, and Petyr stared at the gold band on Victor’s finger, a rigid smile growing over his face. He pulled a small rectangular box from his coat pocket, the silver reflecting the yellow of the streetlamp as it opened with a flick of Petyr’s wrist. He picked a white tube of a pure tobacco cigarette out, closing the container and pocketing the case. His fist opened to surface a black lighter, as his other hand put the cigarette between his plush lips. “I don’t think you’d call me anyways. It doesn’t seem you want to be discreet anymore.” He said, the burst of fire from the flint catching the cigarette end ablaze as he inhaled, relaxing a breath of smoke on the exhale with the satisfaction of the first after dinner smoke. _

_ “Mhm.” Victor nodded. Yuri muttered a few nonsensical phrases against Victor’s coat, muffled as he burrowed his head further into Victor’s chest, only leaving black spikes sticking out as Victor thumbed the app for a cab. _

_ “He’s young.” Petyr stated, sucking another drag from his lit cigarette. “Can’t even hold his alcohol.”_

_ “He turned twenty-four not long ago…” Victor said, putting his phone back into the warmth of his pocket now that he secured a ride. “We actually met under similar circumstances a year ago.” He blue eyes glanced down lovingly at the ball of black fuzz and a blue coat wrapped around him. _

_ “Hmph…figures. I’d give you advice…but you won’t listen anyways.” The man said, looking onto the cars passing each other on the street. He took the last puff off of the cigarette, tossing it out onto the tarred street. _

_ “What advice?” Victor wondered, feeling the raise of hairs on his neck. _

_ “I’m not usually in Russia anymore. I work out of London and New York usually. I got a call, last week sometime, asking me to come back for some corporate litigations between two companies.” Petyr spoke barely above a whisper, his tone relaxed as he placed his hands deep in the pockets of his black trench coat. “Saw your almost fiasco yesterday on the news. You kept pretty cool, I gotta hand it to you. Not that you haven’t always been good at handling the press, but...”_

_ “That’s why you showed up tonight…”_

_ “I figured you might end up here sometime this week. It was one of your favorites when you were younger. I didn’t think I’d catch you so soon…”_

_ “…did you…hear anything?” Victor asked, his hands coming up to rest over Yuri’s head as he swayed back and forth with Yuri’s hips moving against him. _

_ Petyr straightened up, smoothing the sides of his jacket with his coat, “I’ve heard a lot of things. Some things you’re probably better off not hearing. This is a small dice move, nothing more. Too quick, too angry, too reckless if it wasn’t who it was…If you ask me. There’s still…a lot of red tape that has to be cleared. I’ve…managed to find quite a few barriers to work through. Should keep things tied up for a while.”_

_ “How long?” Victor inquired, maintaining the breath of calm though every hair on his neck stood on end. _

_ “A year…maybe a little longer. Long enough for you to get through this season and most of the next.” _

_ Beige coat clad shoulders relaxed as the tension released. Victor hugged tighter around Yuri’s shoulder, resting his chin atop the black spikes. A narrow taxi rolled to a screeching stop in front of the trio of men standing on the sidewalk in front of the Four Seasons hotel. The passenger window rolled down and a gruff looking man with no hair save for a thick mustache hollered out…. [Are you Victor?!?!]_

_ A pale hand waved sweetly, “DA!” he called back. His fingers rounded over Yuri’s shoulders, pushing him out to see his shimmering eyes, “Our cab is here, Yuri. We’re going home.”_

_ Brilliant browns and reds danced in the glow of the streetlight as Yuri’s eyes widened. “Bictoruuu!!!!” he sang through his drunken slur, “I love you!!!”_

_ Petyr watched the spectacle, the first genuine smile finding itself on his face as he watched Victor lean in to steal a kiss from his partner. “I get it. He’s awfully cute.”_

_ “Right?!? He’s perfect.” Victor’s silver strands whirled as he looked behind himself, bent over to help Yuri climb into the back seat of the cab. He rose up to his full height, his long loafers clacking on the pavement as he strode back over to step up on the sidewalk once more. He stood squarely in front of Petyr, wrapping his arms up over the man’s broad shoulders. “Spasibo.”_

_._

Grey steel doors slid together, creaking as the elevator doors shut, leaving Makkachin and Victor alone on the brisk ride up. The fuzzy feelings from the last bit of vodka still circulation in Victor’s system all but numbed from the freezing winter weather he endured while his poodle found his spots to mark. _I’m glad we don’t have to deal with that for awhile. _He thought, patting the top of Makkachin’s curly brown head in time with each of the poodle’s pants.

One final ding from the elevator to announce they arrived on the correct floor, and the doors parted. Victor emerged from the opening as Makkachin raced in front and through the doorframe. _Hmmm….Yuri left the door open? I don’t hear anything; did he fall asleep? _He thought, the sapphire blue eyes moving from the open door to the wood floor, noticing a brown shoe, and then another in the hallway. He padded quietly over to the items and picked them up, careful not to cause any disturbance in the late hour.

Coming through the entryway, he shuffled just shy of tripping over a mound of blue peacoat and scarf. The tip of his black loafer scuttled underneath the thick coarse fabric, lifting it up for Victor to garner the items up the rest of the way into his arms. Coats and scarves were hung on the hanger as Victor peeled himself out of his still chilly outerwear, laying their shoes underneath. He pressed his hand against the closet door to muffle the sound as he made sure it latched shut.

With a spring in his step, he whirled around to survey the area, searching for any signs of black hair in the kitchen or hallway. The shine of the metal island caught the reflection of a long black snake like shape, and Victor tilted his head as he stepped closer to the object curiously. He ran his fingers along the black leather, huffing a laugh to himself for his momentary fear of Yuri’s black belt. _If his belt is here…then where is his…oh… _Victor thought, spying a heap of jeans where Makkachin kicked them out of his water bowl. A quick step over and he picked them up, his grey brows furrowing as he glanced back and forth for anymore articles of clothing. His feet barely touched the grooves of the zig zag wood entering the living room.

The edge of his shoulder landed against the corner of the entrance, creasing into Victor’s black sweater as he leaned, crossing one ankle over the other. A bright mischievous smile drew up on the side of his glossed mouth, the sight before him too good to be true. Both Yuri’s sweater and undershirt draped over the top of the light jean hued couch, somehow tossed or thrown to their current position during the current display in front of him Victor imagined.

Black ankle length socks and black skintight boxer briefs remained the only two articles on Yuri’s lithe toned frame. Blue eyes stared, flashing a hungry sea deep hue as Yuri’s hips wound, turning his body into an S as he spun around, his leg thrusting upward until his toe touched his forehead. He moved and dipped, lost in the music inside himself, raising his hands over his head and around himself. _Just like his Eros program, he is absolutely stunning._

_CLAP, CLAP, CLAP! _Victor giggled and applauded, his mouth drawn into its heart shaped smile of enthusiasm. Under the influence of libations, Yuri didn’t flinch in embarrassment, but turned in an almost pirouette around, the tips of his toes eclipsing the other as he stepped in front of himself.

“VICTOR!!!!” he sang. An attempt to run was made, but quickly descended to a few stumbling twists between the couch and where the television sat on the black entertainment stands. Yuri managed to not clip the tip of the screen as he sprawled arms out, spinning until his collided into the soft fabric of Victor’s sweater he still wore. Bare arms twisted around as Yuri hung from Victor’s neck, lightly gripping his fingers together as they felt the silky silver strands. White lights dazzled in the deep brown eyes as Victor looked down on his flushed face fiancé. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” Yuri stated, the tip of his snout crunching at the thought.

“I am?” Victor purred, gingerly bringing his hands to rest on the small of Yuri’s back.

“Mhm.” Yuri nodded, unlatching his fingers to run them down the fabric that hid Victor’s pale defined core from him. “I’ve been thinking about it all day…” he said. The heat of his fingertips pawing beneath the sweater at the hem. Yuri’s fingers tugged out the white button up, finding the bare beginnings of skin beneath sent a fire soaring in Victor’s blood. Without a second to gasp, those fingertips stole the garment from his body, leaving his torso to feel bare skin on skin of their two chests pressing together.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

A large pale hand cupped over Yuri’s rosy cheeks, bringing the collision of lips together as Victor bent to meet Yuri’s pale mouth against his own. Glazed lips on glazed lips, pressing and dragging one over the other, surging in and coming for a heartbeat of a breath before returning. Victor could still taste the cream and vodka on Yuri’s tongue as he welcomed the heat of the diver, swirling in as Victor guided them to the couch.

He landed with a soft thud into the cushion as Yuri’s inebriated confidence placed a delicate hand on either shoulder and pushed Victor down. Brown eyes sparkled from above as he spread each leg to straddle over Victor’s still pant clad lap, knees indenting into the sides of the couch as he sat back, looking down into those sapphire eyes with need.

“Is this what you wanted?” Victor asked, his voice so deep the wells in Yuri’s body began to pour on just hearing alone. Feeling the pressure of hands stroking over his bare thighs, Yuri threw his head back, closing his eyes as a he let out a small gasp.

“Ahhh…ngh. Yes.” He said, the spring of excitement bursting from the subtle feeling of fingers on his sides. Pale limbs flinched with the body twitch as Victor rans his hands up and down once more, searching to uncover all the spots he found the night before. Lost in the satisfaction of every lightning bolt uncovered with each touch, Yuri’s thoughts drifted as his bubbling mind oozed in the sensations. Remembering his previous idea after a few moments of bliss, he snapped back, the tips of his fingers traveling over the silk skin of Victor’s forearms, “I want…to do the things that Victor does.” Yuri managed to say. Heat matched heat as Yuri brought his forehead against Victor’s, the warm sweet heat of breaths raising the temperature between them.

“And what’s that?” Victor breathed a question into the shared air between them as fingers ran from side, to back, down further and further until he could grab at the two mounds of flesh still covered by thin stretchy fabric.

“I…uh…want to do…” he attempted through gasps of surprise and want, tipping his head further into those silver tresses, weaving black threads through more and more with each pant. Helpless to the still new feelings, he left himself free of words, covering his intention on Victor’s skin with kisses trailing along his collar bone. Each lip press against that hot and dampening skin felt fresh and undiscovered, and Yuri tingled with the excitement of the exploration.

“What do you want to do, Yuri?” Victor asked, his hands weaving through coarse black hair as he pulled Yuri up from his place on Victor’s shoulder. He sought into those brown eyes, seeing if he could determine the difference between desire and inebriation.

The breath of an irritated and needy groan expelled from Yuri’s lips, “You knowwwwww….” He sulked. Victor’s eyes widened, feeling a roll of hips over his lap, moving back from the middle of his lap and thrusting forward until his front collided with his belt buckle. Soft fingers trailed over the edge of Victor’s jawline, stopping at his chin. “I liked…what we did…last night. I want...to do it, too.”

Arms raced around Yuri’s back, scooping him up and depositing him gently on the couch. The coolness of the cushion sent a chill over his bare skin, quickly warmed by the body heat as Victor pressed into his chest, the ridges of his tined core imprinting onto Yuri’s body as his lips stamped on that tender spot on Yuri’s neck. Fingers moved and tickled over every area of exposed flesh, kneading into the firm flesh as Yuri lifted his leg, curling it around until his heel rubbed into the small of Victor’s back.

Up and down, winding into the curve of each other’s movements, their bodies mingled with the tempo of their mouths tangling into one another. Kisses pressed more desperate and lingering less and less before renewing. The friction cast between each of their still covered centers rubbing together became entirely too unbearable. Yuri twisted and twinged with each roll of Victor’s hips, gasping between breaths of air.

Victor listened and lavished in every movement of Yuri’s body. The way his back arched with each push, even in those partially clothed bodies. How he moved his lips to try to follow Victor’s lead, matching the pressure and position to return every excited kiss and twist of tongue. The length of his thin neck as he tilted his head back with each deep kiss against his neck. Victor wanted to see more, he had to. Glossy supple lips trailed further down the hot skin of Yuri’s chest, flicking the tip of a pink nub with his tongue.

“Hah...ngn” Yuri caught his moan with his finger in his mouth, biting hard and fast at the sensation of Victor’s mouth sucking on the circular digit as it rose in arousal. Lips and tongue moved from one nub to the other, swirling, flicking, and sucking on each until the tip was a deep pink hue. Hands worked to unbuckle the belt as Victor continued his wet attention across Yuri’s chest, licking kisses down to his naval and back up again to occupy his mouth.

Feeling the leave of warm hands, brown eyes glanced down find what took their attention. Spying Victor failing to unclasp his belt and continue his play, Yuri’s still slightly influenced mind easily forgot any nerves, reaching down to free the buckle and pull the belt free from the pant loops in one tug. The black leather belt landed on the floor as Yuri released, moving his hand to run through those silk-like strands of silver bangs and pull them behind Victor’s head, revealing both tender blue eyes staring down at him.

Of everything he saw Victor in; pictures, television, even on the ice, the sight of his silver hair dangling as the pale figure loomed over top of him was more intoxicating than anything he drank that night. “You’re soo…hot.” Yuri spat out, earning him a feverish kiss on his lips before Victor descended once more. “V-V-Victor…” he sighed, feeling those hand wrap behind to grab at his waste, dragging down until they found their way underneath the black stretch fabric. Lips pressed into the dips of Yuri’s abdomen as he arched his back, feeling the large hands groping desperately, grabbing heaps of backside.

His palms flat on the round curve, Victor’s fingers edged into the crevice between as he fondled the two, grasping at as much flesh as he could until he heard the squeak of a hiccupped gasp breath from Yuri’s mouth. Hands ran further down, running along the edge of Yuri’s thighs until only his center remained covered by the bit of cloth. Knees knocked against Victor’s sides as Yuri’ trembled and quaked, his arm covering his face in an attempt to muffle his cries. That wouldn’t do, Victor wanted to hear him. He hungered to know the sounds each new grab, or stroke, or thrust would give him. Chests meshed together as Victor brought his mouth back to distract Yuri from trying to curb his moans, once again feeling the itchy fabric that separated them.

Burning from the inside out on lust and liquor, Yuri’s hands squished between their bodies to thumb at the button of Victor’s jeans. “Oh, Yuri. How bold…” Victor’s deep droll purred against Yuri’s ear, nibbling on the edge as he lifted to his knees to grant Yuri the access he craved.

“I want…I liked when we…” Yuri tried to say, his voice straining as he worked the button through the hole at the awkward angle.

Victor fingers trailed down Yuri’s chest, circling around his naval as he felt the button finally freed from the hole. Feeling the zipped pulldown, he stepped up so Yuri could tug down the pants. He watched those pale cheeks flush as Yuri’s fingers ran along the seam of his black bikini briefs, his center twitching with the excitement of seeing his hand so close.

Time froze while Victor held himself up, allowing Yuri’s fingertips to skate back and forth at the top of his brief line, the pink throbbing flesh beneath begging to be let out. He waited, watching the hazy eyes still trying to find the courage even with the liquor still fueling. Yuri braved a little further, traveling over the inch of fabric covering Victor’s thighs on either side and bringing his hands back to the place they were above the top line of the black briefs. Deep brown eyes looked up, Yuri’s mouth sighing helplessly in frustration. 

“Oh, okay. So you want me to…” Victor tried, stroking his thumb soothingly on Yuri’s stomach.

Black hair swayed as Yuri shook his head, “N-no. I wanted to touch…to hold…but I don’t know how…” He leaned his head into Victor’s chest, defeated. His fears were quickly assuaged as Victor brought his lips to Yuri’s drawing him into a deep kiss. He pushed down the bit of fabric that concealed himself, allowing the stiffened flesh to plop on the top of Yuri’s pale chest as the kisses continued.

“Here, let me help.” Victor suggest, his fingers running down Yuri’s arms until he found those hands, looking over those brown eyes for reassurance as he pulled them closer to his center. Yuri squeaked and gasped as his fingers curved over the sides, held together under Victor’s guiding hands. Those hands left for a moment, reaching down to unveil Yuri’s own arousal beneath them. He hissed a breath at the exposure to the air, and the firm grip of four finger latching around the front. Victor’s blue eyes kept a watch on Yuri’s brown as he twisted and pulled, stroking from tip to stem and back up again, showing Yuri how to move his hand up and down.

Fingers trembled and shook as they attempted to move, sliding up to feel the cool bit of wetness at the tip. Brown eyes widened as he felt it, the slickness sticking to the palm of his hand as the sensation of Victor’s hand rubbing over his flesh began to overwhelm him.

“Is this what you were thinking?” Victor purred, the pace of his hand quickening as Yuri arched his back, unable to move his hand under the jolts rushing throughout his body.

“Y-yes…b-but…last time…w-we were together.” He said through a heavy sigh. His chest rose and fell with the deep inhale and exhale.

Beaded damp skin meshed chest to chest as Victor took note of Yuri’s nerve constrained intentions and laid himself over the bare and heaving body beneath him. Tender pale fingers moved to pull Yuri’s hand, wrapping them over both aroused states of their exposed flesh together. “Here, just hold them.” He instructed gently, his smile bursting out as he huffed a few ragged breaths. Victor plunged his mouth into Yuri’s, kissing and licking as he began to move his hips. Yuri drew a long sigh as the feeling of Victor’s thick stiffness slid in and out, running through the hole and over his own center those two hands created with an urgency.

Flesh slid over flesh, the feeling of skin and friction driving further and further with each thrust. Kisses moved from mouth to ear to nip at the nape of that neck as Yuri heaved and gasped, the feeling of their arousals caught in the same small space sending electricity trickling from his spine to his center. He clenched his eyes shut and dipped his head further into the cushion beneath him. Seeing the red mask of both pleasure and embarrassment, Victor rocked his hips in and out as he ran his hand under, gripping the small of Yuri’s back and pulling him forward, leaving less than an inch between them as he rolled his body overtop.

The closeness melted away some of the feeling of anxiety still creeping in the crevice of the Yuri’s mind with the intimacy just birthed last night. Each touch was an electrified bolt setting his entire being on fire. Every time his felt Victor’s hips press on the outside of his hands, the length running against his own, sent new waves of energy and pleasure he didn’t know existed before this moment. The hand against his back held him steady, making him feel safe, cared for, and most of all; loved.

Victor placed kisses and lips everywhere he could; shoulders to collarbone to jaw to neck; anywhere his lips could reach as his back and forth rhythm continued. Yuri kept his hand steady as the motion of each deep methodic slide pushed him further and further to the edge. His fingers quaked and trembled with each quake and shock rushing through his system, the sound of Victor’s deep frantic breaths spurring him forward with each thrust.

“V-Vi-Victor…I caann’t…” He cried through panted breath, the urge of burgeoning release peaking too fast to even attempt slowing down.” …I’m going..ngh..” Victor swept to hold him as close as possible as Yuri’s body shook and bolted with each pule and surge shooting from his center as the heat dribbled onto his stomach. “I’m…I’m sorry…I couldn’t…” he tried to say as he heaved frantically, only to be quieted by Victor’s mouth kissing deeply.

“It’s okay, just keep holding. You’re doing great.” Victor said, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as his silver bangs stuck to his cheek. Trying to maintain focus even in the afterglow still sending bursts of sensations through him, Yuri tightened his grip as Victor picked up his thrusts, moving intently for the friction of feeling Yuri’s hands wrapped around him. Quick, deep rolls in and out went through Yuri’s hands as Victor grinded, rasping panted breaths as he stared into those deep brown eyes. Victor raised himself up on the palms of his hand, able to make fast deep fervent thrusts, edging him closer and closer to the climax.

“Y-Yuuuuri…” He moaned, the sticky solution of his own relief pushing through Yuri’s fingers as he jolted with the sensation. Blue eyes looked down adoringly, reaching his arms up to run his hands through the threads of black hair, sweeping them from where they stuck to Yuri’s brow. “You did it.”

_I did it. Victor said my name. _

_********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_KSHHHTKPFFTBMM_

“AAAAAARRRRGGHH!!!”

Black lashes unstuck as his deep brown eyes shot open. Quick, feverish thumps beat in his chest as Yuri’s heart rammed through his chest, the booming sound bleeding in his eardrum as he sat upright with a start. He clumsily fished for his glasses he assumed were left somewhere in the comforter, but after a blurry reach realized it was to no avail. Hurriedly, he swung both his legs off of the bed and staggered over to the bedroom door, thrusting it open with a fury.

Beneath him, the faded and fuzzy figure with silver whirls on the top lay outside the office entrance. “Victor?” he asked, trying to squint to make out the light brown blobs from his dazed, confused, and bleary eyes.

An audible groan escaped from the silver haze under Yuri’s nose.” Y-yeah.” Victor winced through the words, moving to prop himself up on his elbows.

“What are you doing?”

“I thought I’d start unpacking while you were still sleeping. I didn’t know when you’d be up to start practice. But I misjudged how high I could reach, and…can you even see?” Victor’s voice went from pained to alarmed as he looked over his squinting and very naked fiancé, a grin curling over his mouth.

“Oh, no…not really. I couldn’t find my glasses.” Yuri answered, the ends of his lashes brushing into his knuckle as he rubbed his eyes, trying to wake up. His mouth drew into an O as he yawned, “I don’t even remember going to bed. The last thing I remember we..were…”

Seeing the pink flush rush over Yuri’s pale face, Victor chuckled a laugh as he picked himself off of the wood floor. _So, he does remember. That’s good at least. _Victor straightened his legs, pulling his arms up in inched from the ground to save any muscle tensions later. “Ahhh, yes. You fell asleep on the couch after.”

Yuri’s mop flopped forward as he hung his head low, “Shimatta. I was so drunk. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO…not _that _drunk. Not by then…_I’m_ always an id-“ he lamented, his voice stopped by the press of supple lips on his own, planting firm to silence the rest of Yuri’s self-sabotaging diatribe.

“You were perfect.” Victor’s voice spoke in gentle deep waves, washing Yuri free of his anxious thoughts. Hands traversed around Yuri’s torso, running deft fingertips along each vertebrae of his spine until they could grab hold of two bundles of rounded flesh just underneath.

“Ahhh!!!” Yuri screeched, twitching out of grasp as his own hands felt over his body. “I’m naked!”

“Mhm!” Victor laughed excitedly, kissing the tip of Yuri’s nose.

“WhyamInaked!?!”

“Because, I, love it!”

They tore and peeled through the majority of the boxes by the end of the morning, piles of cardboard spread flatly in the hall next to the kitchen. Ruffles and growls shuffled between the shifting brown packages as Makkachin dug and drooled over the boxes, biting playfully at the next one flung in the air. Victor stood triumphant, planting his hands on either side of his hips as he peered into the almost empty room. The green sofa that once sat in the corner of Yutopia found it’s place back in the furthest wall from the entrance behind a brown coffee table. He grazed over his cherry wood antique desk, the curving legs splintering to resemble the foot of a hawk.

“Wow! I can’t believe we got done so fast!” He exclaimed, raising his arms in excitement. The white sleeves of his t shirt fell to his shoulders as he spun around, seeking his fiancé out. Pale feet stepped around open office to the open bedroom, finding Yuri buried in hangers, sleeves and pantlegs sticking out of the mound atop him, his limbs sticking through his olive sweats and grey sweatshirt. “You can put your books on the shelves in the office…” he said, a finger tracing over his lip as he stared at the stack of books propped in the corner between the two rooms. “…maybe we’ll need another shelf… What’re your books about?” he asked, picking up the closest one and thumbing through the kanji script, running his eyes over the page of a lively caricature with straight brown hair carrying a sword. “Ohhhh!!! This one has dragons!”

“Uhah!” Yuri panted, struggling to push the squashed layers of hanging garments away in the small space in the back corner. “They’re mostly skating books. That’s a-ah.. Dragon Quest guidebook – one of my favorite games.” He finagled his hanging items, breathing heavily as he released his hand on the rack just in time before the barricade of clothes snapped back. “…maybe we need another dresser, too.”

“Mhm.” Victor agreed, staring up from an adorable blue blob with a smiling face on the page. His eyes broke in utter amusement, glancing down on the sprawled-out figure below. “I’ve never really lived with another person. Not until I went to Japan.”

“What? Really? Not even your fam-“ Yuri started to ask, rescuing himself from the pile of hangers and clothes and clambering for the other side of the closet. Once free, he dusted himself off, flattening the wrinkles of his sweater.

“I lived in the dorms near the rink since I started. I didn’t share a room there. I found an apartment when I was able to, and then moved here when I could afford it.” Victor stated, reaching out to grab a sock off of Yuri’s shoulder. Frayed bits of string clung from the static, trying to find its way back to Yuri’s sweatshirt. Long pale fingers held the black sock in the air as Victor examined it like a suspect needing to be questioned, quickly tossing it aside before exiting the room.

_“Oh…” I never considered that moving might be different for Victor, too. I’ve never lived alone, not completely. I had Phichit in Detroit, and my family at Yutopia. _

The office closet was a tiny comparison to Victor’s master bedroom but yielded enough space to house a few extra items. His bedroom eyes wondered up and down the white wire shelves, mulling over where he last put the what he was searching for. Extra sheets, towels, and old blankets smushed together on the top, the tassels of a blue afghan falling from between the sets of sheets and pillowcases. Victor wove his fingers through the light blue ribbon running through the holes of the blanket, pushing it up to secure finely stitched cover back in its hideout.

“Ah!” his voice sang out in declaration as he pointed his index finger into the air. Silver hairs fell forward as Victor hunched over to retrieve a square black case. He lifted it into the air, the reflection in the glass door spinning with white, black, and glittering gold as Victor turned to carry it the rest of the way to the desk. The whites of his teeth gleaned as his shining lips parted with an overzealous smile as he relaxed his fingers on the three black jewelry type boxes in front of him. He guided each strand into the glass topped case with painstaking precision before securing it to the wall in tone with the rest of the display.

White pages nestled between thick bound dark hued book covers stacked one on top of the other, covering any sight of Yuri’s brown eyes or black hair as he waddled through the office doorframe. He swayed side to side, trying to balance the cumbersome load. “Victor…could you...he-“ Yuri’s mouth dropped open, his arms drooping to the side as he froze as wide eyed and astonished as the first day he ever saw Victor skate on the television at the Ice Castle. Books tumbled and crumpled on the floor, left forgotten in the awe of Yuri’s twinkling brown eyed mystified daze. Before his very eyes were the majority of gold medals Victor won, neatly hung in groups of three in their own black case fashioned against the wall.

“Wooooowwwww….” he gasped, running frantically to point at all the different gold medals, “This is…the Trophe de France your first year you won gold at every event! And…that’s your Skate Canada… I was in Detroit when you won that one! SO CLOSE!...And WORLDS!” His body darted and dashed so quickly he appeared to be vanishing into thin air and reappearing.

“And these...” Victor ran his arms over in showcase format the newly hung case, “Are your medals.” He stated happily, his eyelashes curling out from his clenched eyes with how proud he smiled. Yuri adjusted the frames of his glasses as he stepped closer, seeing the two silver and one gold dangling from each of their lanyards.

“Victor…I…” he started, once again stopped by the press of lips firmly against his own. He melted into the embrace, his arms holding onto either side of Victor’s waist as he lifted his chin for easier access of their mouths.

The prick of silken strands poked at Yuri’s cheek as Victor pulled his head back, nuzzling against his forehead. “I’m going to kiss every gold medal Yuri wins from now on. Four Continents…And Worlds…and...”

“VictorIknowIvesaidthisbeforebutyouaregoingtobecompetinginWorlds….”

“Right.” Victor deadpanned, his blue eyes blinking in his dazed state. Thin grey slats of brow furled in seriousness as he inched forward, his silver hair falling on Yuri’s forehead as he leaned forward, arms crossed. “Yu-ri, a promise is a promise…”

“You’re not seriously thinking we both win gold?!?”

“Uhhh-“

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

The hard pounding on the door startled the two, drawing Victor from the responsibility of further explanation as he jauntily stepped over the book heap and out into the hall. “Coming!!!” he called, the cheer overriding the relief in his voice.

_Does Victor really think both of us will win?!?! _

Yuri followed in toe behind Victor as they walked the short distance to the door, blanketed in head tilting confusion. The brown paws dug at the door while Makkachin gave out whines and pants while his whole body wagged. The door opened, and blue eyes peered down the top of blonde shoulder length locks, falling down like the waterfall he’d been subjected to a year ago as he heaved for air.

“Can’t…either…of…you…idiots…answer…your…DAMN…PHONE!!!?!?!” the blonde barked, tossing his hair back as he snapped his head back, throwing green daggers from his eyes as he glared.

Victor chuckled a laugh, “Yurio, what are you doing here? How did you have my address?”

“Yakov wouldn’t shut up about you not showing up to practice like you promised…” Yurio sneered, the sides of his mouth taught with tension.

“Oh!” Victor gaped, beckoning him in. “We were just about to get ready!”

A quizzical brown brow cocked up on Yuri’s face. ”We were?”

Yurio sauntered through the door as if the place housed kin and not an unfamiliar apartment of an aloof eccentric that drove him to the ends of his wits. _Fits him…I suppose. _He thought, slouching over the modern metal island. “You forgot, again…”

“I didn’t forget. We’ve just been busy with…”

“Busy with what? What could you two possibly be doing that’s more important than…” Yurio started, catching brown eyes start to bug out under the bits of spikey black bangs beginning to peak over Yuri’s eyebrow while the burnt red hue struck up to the tip of his ear. A smirk cocked on the side of Victor’s mouth as he raised an index finger, opening his mouth to speak only to be halted by Yurio’s petite hand raising in the air. “Forget it. I don’t wanna know. Just get your shit and let’s go.”

.

.

.

.

Blustering breezes shot across the Tuchov bridge, piercing straight through the thick wool of Yuri’s blue peacoat, the chills biting his cool skin into his bone. White puffy exhales clouded over his brown eyes, blurring the sight of the dark denim and black puffed coats jostling back and forth in front of him. His lungs burned, the prickles deep in his chest spiking as he heaved for air.

“Oi, Victor! Why did you stop!” Yurio’s crass tone carried out over the water bank as he recoiled, a mere few inches from slamming into Victor’s coat as if it were an air back. Yuri rounded behind them in a creeping crawl, grateful to catch his breath since Victor first bolted out of the apartment in a cheery haze of delight and competition. His black backpack strapped to his back slid as he keeled over, taking in as much oxygen as possibly with each inhale.

The wine hue of Victor’s phone case blocked the hint of sun trying to escape out of the grey clouds that imprisoned it, giving a pristine opportunity of picture taking. His long arm extended out as he cocked his head, silver strands dangling as he lined up the shot to include the other two. “Yayy! I haven’t taken a picture on the bridge since coming back. Yurio, smile!”

“Over my dead-“ the blonde began to grimace, stopping mid-stretch as he heard the click.

“Victoor…”

“Yes! Hashtag back to work!”

The familiarity of the sound of ice being sliced by blades filled Victor with a nostalgic enthusiasm. Gold cleaned under his black skate boot, thudding rubber on concrete as he walked through the entrance of the rink, breathing in the scent of sweat, adrenaline, and the chilling purity of ice. Sun bled through the tall windows, blinding his blue eyes. However, nothing could blind him from the surly grunt sounding in his direction. “You said you were practicing yesterday.”

Victor batted his light grey lashes, focusing to see the bitter grit of Yakov’s anger simmering underneath his hat. “We did practice!” he assured, swooping his arm slightly behind him to collect over Yuri’s shoulder. “Right, Yuri?”

“Oh...R-right!” he stammered, the hairs on his arm now sticking into his black athletic jacket from the startle. “V-Victor took me to a rink…”

“Was that practice…or a date?” Yakov scoffed, turning back around to focus on the rink.

“Why not both?” Victor shrugged, peeling off his rubber guards. The apparent disregard of Victor’s words left Yuri shrinking behind as he set his own guards on the bench, walking gingerly over to place his foot on the St. Petersburg Skate Club’s ice for the first time. His silver blade slid over the sheer surface, following the lines create by the gold skates in front of him. 

_ I don’t know if Yakov is ever going to approve of me being here. I think he just…tolerates me begin with Victor. _Yuri thought, racing to the edge as Victor’s silver tresses swopped behind him as he rounded the ice into a figure eight. Gold blades edged the outside of the rink jumping on a toe pick and spinning into another perfect quad flip.

Brown eyes gazed in awe, stopping as his eyes drowned in the sight of seeing Victor lost in his own world of creation. Yuri could tell by Victor’s eyes just when his mind was planning choreography. The ocean colored pools looked outward, but never settled on any person or any one thing, simply moving to the story in his mind.

_Victor is a genius. I’d never be able to create the way he does…._

_ “_Okay, Yuri, now you do it!” Victor’s soft voice called Yuri from his inner thoughts, bringing himself from a spectator and into the moment.

“What?”

The black brim of Victor’s shirt fluttered as he skated forward, teasing the hint of his pale torso underneath. “You’ll be here…and I’ll swoop in like this…” he said, swirling behind Yuri. Two pale hands latched to Yuri’s waist as Victor lifted him in a spin, twisting him around so he landed chest against chest. Victor ran his hand up Yuri’s spine until he cupped onto his cheek. “Like that, for our next skate. What do you think?”

“Are you two doing pair skating now?!?” Yakov barked, crossing his arms as his grey ends swayed furiously as he shook his head.

“Sometimes!” Victor smiled as he spoke, looking up at the bristling coach at the edge of the rink.

“When are you going to work on YOUR skate programs?”

An index finger rested over Victor’s lips as he left Yuri’s cheek to ponder over the idea. “I’ll debut my choreography in a week!”

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“Order for Yuri!” the cheery barista called, placing three white paper cups on the edge of the counter. Green eyes rolled into his pale lids as Yurio huffed, scuffing the floor as he sulked his way over to retrieve the three coffees from the tan marble surface.

_How the hell did I lose in rock, paper, scissors to Victor? Now, I get sent on a coffee run. Why am I everyone’s errand boy all of a sudden? At least it isn’t far from the rink…_

“You don’t look Asian.” A voice stated to Yurio’s back.

His shoulders shook in irritation as Yurio jostled the three cups in his hand, spinning to glare at whoever dared say that to him. “I’m not.” He spat at the man’s chest as he spoke. Green eyes followed the designer black suit up until his chin craned upward at the height, meeting Steele blue eyes looking down on me.

“My mistake. This close to the rink I thought I might catch Victor Nikiforov’s new student.” The man’s cool tone seemed out of place for how stern his gaze was, “But, you’re not him.”

“What the hell do you want with Katsudon? You some stupid reporter looking for dirt?”

“Katsudon?” The man cocked his head, his pale hands folding on the cuffs as he straightened out his blazer. He seemed to look over Yurio’s small stature, drawing an eerie grin on the side of his mouth. “You must be Yuri Plisetsky. Russia’s new champion.”

“So? What’s it to you old man?” Yuri felt increasingly irritated, leaning his back against the edge of the counter to gage a better look at person speaking.

“How do you feel now that Victor’s back?”

“Why do I care? Victor’s Victor. What is this, an interview?”

“Just a conversation. Must be rough, now with Victor back home. He’s been in all the papers.”

“So?”

“So? It’s just got to be tough, that’s all. You win the final, but Victor is the headline.” The man’s hat covered most of his hair, not that Yurio cared anyways. He scoffed, looking down at his cheetah print tennis shoes as the man continued, “Victor only has people who stand in his shadow. No matter what you do, Victor will always be first. You can break all his records and he’ll still be the living legend…”

“Who the fu-“

“S-sir?” the once cheery voice of the barista said, much more timid than before as she lifted the cup to the man, “Your espresso.”

“Ah, yes, thank you.” He spoke, and Yurio caught the first glimpse of a smile as spoke, nodding his head to the lady in thanks as he turned to head to the door. His hand flicked in front of Yurio’s eyesight, catching to green eyes cross at the white cardstock paper fixed between the man’s two fingers. “Here. If you find yourself needing more sponsors, contact my secretary.”

Before his mind could fully grasp everything, the business card was left on top of his cup. The bell on the door dinged, shaking Yuri from the fuzzy feeling of mystery and bringing him back to stare at the name on the card.

_What the hell just happened?_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Shreds of torn white paper lay on the concrete, imbedded into the specs of gravel by a stomping and twisting. Blonde hair waved against the shivering breeze as he made the last firm smush of the ripped paper into the cement, revealing bitter jade green eyes cursing into the wind. _Who the hell does that guy think he is? I don’t need sponsors from some shady news company…or whatever he was. _Not fully convinced of the conversation even as he shouldered open the doors to the rink, he kept his eyes down, the strain of his face churning more disgruntled every step nearer to where Victor stood, elbows resting back against the rink side barrier.

“Here.” He said, thrusting his arm forward until the aroma of coffee beans, and the cup itself, were directly under Victor’s thin pale nose.

“Ahh! Coffee!! Spasibo, Yurio!” Victor spoke, cradling the cup between both of his hands. “Yuri! Your tea is here!” Silver strands caught the light pouring in from behind as he cocked his head to find his skater. The sun rays on the cusp of evening cast a shadow for Victor, it’s darkened shape shading behind him, and right over Yurio.

The whites of his teeth gleaned against the shine of the ice as he grit down, brows furrowed. Green eyes lingered on the figure before him. Victor’s broad, lean build. His carefree expression. His heart shaped smile. The lilt in his voice as he laughed handing over the tea to the other Yuri.

_ Victor only has people who stand in his shadow._

Fingers stretched over his cup to hold it in place while the rest of Yuri’s arm strained to prevent the shake of the seethe as every ounce of anger erupted from the tightness in his chest. _I’m not Victor’s shadow! It’s my time to shine!_

A light, delicate pale arm wrapped over his shoulder as Yurio side-eyed the red curls bouncing down. “Ahhh. Aren’t they cute?” Mila said, sighing over in the direction where Victor and Yuri stood sipping on their respective beverages and gazing fondly at each other.

“They’re gross. Why do they have to be like _that _all the time?”

“Huh?” blue eyes widened; her red curls bowled over her shoulder as Mila cocked her head. Neither Victor nor Yuri did anything besides chatter with Victor’s rm holding onto Yuri’s forearm as they spoke. “Are you still jealous?”

A split-second arm throw and Mila was thrust off his side, “SHUT UP, BABA!” Yurio screeched, the pitch of his yell sparking the eardrums of everyone in the vicinity. Foam almost dribbled at the ends of his mouth as Yurio seethed, turning furiously to stomp out of the door and back into the hallway.

_I’m not jealous! They’re just irritating. It pisses me off! _

“Yurio!” a soft voice hollered out behind him. Of all the people in the skating rink, the voice saying his name bottomed the list of who he wanted to hear. Jade hued eyes only gleaned a splinter as he scrunched his eyes in the turn to glare straight into the guileless mahogany brown that widened on the impact of the stare. “Yurio?” Yuri’s voice rang of an innocence that acted as the kerosene poured on top of Yurio’s burning rage.

“WHAT!?!” he snapped, his nails driving into his palm as he clenched his fists.

“Victor wanted me to tell you we were leaving.” Yuri said, resolving to ignore the sound blast. The tip of his index finger pushed against the blue rimmed glasses as he turned to return into the rink area.

Bzzz…. The sound of Yurio’s phone vibrating echoed in his jacket pocket as he twitched from the chock of the unexpected feeling against his torso. Relieving on finger at a time, he released the grip of his fists to fish his phone out of his pocket. The honeycomb print with the face of a tiger was covered by his fingers as he thumbed the side to turn on his phone with a click. He read over the Cyrillic text and heaved a deep breath as if he could breathe fire through the phone and to the recipient.

[I got a call from Feliks. Apparently, he is gushing that the Victor Nikiforov is coming by later to get the rings engraved!!!!!!!]

[I just couldn’t resist…so I came up here]

[;)]

[Don’t go there and see them!!!!!]

[Too late. Already here]

[Are you fucking kidding me? Mom!]

The smash of his thumb against the side of his phone left an imprint from the impact. Still making the trek to rink, the black athletic shirt clad back in front of him sprung forward as he hurled his phone into Yuri’s back.

“What was that for?” Yuri pouted, reaching his arm back to rub along his spine where he could still feel the sting from the plastic case hitting him.

“I’m coming, too!”

“Hah?!?”

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Deep brown eyes squinted, once again in a fruitless effort to read the script above the reddish grey brick building as the three strolled in through the glass doors. Overwhelmed by the bright light, he found his hand cupping around Victor’s arm, thumbing against the stiff fabric of his black coat in search of comfort.

“Wow!!!” Victor beamed; his eyes widened in gasp along with his voice. He scanned over the brilliant glass displays, situated atop an opaque turquoise geometric square in the middle. Lighting wound around the entire display, framing the golden chandelier dangling in center. “Artel’s been a part of St. Petersburg for ages. I can’t believe you know someone from here Yuri-“

All sense of incredulity was cut off by the shrill childlike voice shouting, “Yuri!!!!” The woman ran up from behind the counter, het petite figure barely making any noise on the floor as she pattered across tan tiled floor, gliding into Yurio. She wrapped her arms around him snuggly, her lavender shirt ruffling against his black denim jack.

“[Ugh! Get off me, Mama!]” he scolded her in Russian, leaving her to slink off in a pout. The pink of her acrylic manicured fingers ran through the mousey blonde waves of her hair as she resituated the tufts into the magnificent bouffant level of volume of her hair.

Her palm gingerly rested against the top of Yurio’s shoulder as she nudged him. [Yuri! You are no fun!] Her slender frame and elegant figure could be reminiscent of any person, but her crystalline emerald eyes dazzling under the display light made no mistake of where Yurio’s genes came from. Dark extended lashes fluttered as she extended her hand in front on Victor’s torso, the tip of her long index nail brushing against Victor’s white and blue horizontal striped shirt, “Tiphanie Plisetsky, pleasure to make your acquaintance formally.”

Large slender fingers clasped underneath as Victor bowed to press his lips on the top of Tiphanie’s hand, “The pleasure is all mine.” He said, voice lowering to a depth that made Yuri’s mind start to tingle. Brown eyes watched as Victor lifted his parted lips and head back up to level and turned a satisfactory gaze over to the rouge lipped and pink blushed woman in front of him.

“Excuse me, gentleman. I’ll fetch Feliks!” she giggles, gliding on her grey stiletto pumps as if she were barefoot as she sauntered out of the room.

“She is always so annoying!” Yurio relented, wiping the stain of red off of his cheek from his mother’s kiss.

“That’s your mother, Yurio?” Yuri wondered, leaning his head against where he held Victor’s arm. “She doesn’t look much older than you.”

Yurio shrugged, “She was 18 when she had me.”

Blue eyes wandered over the top of the blonde locks, “Mhm. Mine too.” He said, grunting a hint of solidarity.

Spikes of black hair shot upwards as Yuri flinched upward, his expression riddled in surprise. “Victor- what?!?”

Before any explanation could be given, Tiphanie’s cheery voice rang out as she pranced arm in arm with a tall slender man as they approached. “Look at him!” she cooed, pointing her free hand forward, the silver bangle on her wrist sliding forward with a clink. “Isn’t he beautiful!!!!” she exclaimed, reaching both of her hands up to smush Yurio’s cheeks together “From the moment I saw him I knew! I knew this beautiful boy was destined for fame, just like me! And look at him! Those eyes! That hair! The figure!”

The sleek man put his pale hand against his chin. His index covering over his goatee as he looked over the blonde figure like he was inspecting a diamond. “Mhh. Yes, yes.” He said, speaking the bits of English he clearly understood in keeping with the rest of the group. [Are you going to introduce me to Mr. Nikiforov, Tiph?] he inquired. Yuri perked up at the word of Victor’s last name, but the rest of the words were lost on him.

“Ah, yes.” Victor said, reaching to pull Yuri’s right hand in his own, strumming his thumb softly over the gold band. “I’m going to need this.”

_I’ve never thought of having to take off the band since Victor put it on my finger. _Yuri wavered in hesitance for a moment, but ultimately resolved with a nod of understanding to allow Victor to remove the ring from his hand. Brown eyes winced like Victor peeled apart of his skin as the ring drug gently over his finger until it rested securely in Victor’s palm.

Pale lips kissed through black bangs on top of Yuri’s forehead assuring, “Only for a moment.”

“I’m not coming with you?” Yuri questioned as his brows furrowed in curiosity.

“It’s a surprise!” Victor mused, stealing a kiss from Yuri’s lips before he could illicit any sort of retort. Brown eyes watched as silver strands bounced with Victor’s stride, his black pants ruffling together as he walked over to the jeweler and began speaking in Russian.

_One day I’m going to learn Russian just so Victor can’t do this anymore. _His thoughts drifted as he silently spectated, pretending to have any inclination as to what the pair was discussing as Victor pointed to the band, pulling his larger ring atop of Yuri’s smaller and gesturing to a point inside. Feliks nodded his pointed chin and handed off the pair rings to another female employee.

His white suit swayed with his hips as the thin jeweler walked back over, fanning his face as he let out a sigh, “Zet man cud sell Satan to god himself!” Felix exclaimed, dramatically slumping over Tiphanie’s shoulder.

“Worth it, huh?” she teased. “Maybe he should get a bigger discount.”

“[My discount is only for those Tiphanie Plisetsty herself recommends]” he posed, leaning up to look over at the black spikey hairs sticking out in Yuri’s failed attempt to cocoon himself into his mauve scarf. “Dis iz ze ozur Yuri, yes?” he tried through the bind of his thick Russian accent.

“Oh, me?” Yuri perked to hear his name, pointing to himself as he inquired.

“Yes, you, idiot!” Yurio scoffed, crossing his arms as he spun in a huff.

Arms snaked around Yurio, hugging underneath his jacket until the fingers threaded over his tiger graphic shirt. “Uhoh!!! Are you getting grumpy??? You always get fussy when no one’s paying attention to you, Yuri!” his mother nuzzled into him, the pitch of her bubbled squeal could almost break the glass.

His thin arms tried to pull through the snake like vice grip his mother put on him, “Stop it!” he barked, gritting his teeth to give one more push before sighing in defeat.

Sounds of clapping and the distinct cheery laugh sounded from behind. “Aww, it’s cute!” Victor said, his blue eyes softening at the sight as he returned to join the group.

“Mom!” Yurio protested, his voice strung with annoyance but not near the violence expected of him.

Undeterred, her lids covered over her green eyes as taunted, “Come on, Yuri! Won’t the gold medalist take his mama out to eat!?!?! I miss our mother-son dates!”

“We never had mother son dates!”

“Oh! well then we should!

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The hazy clouds couldn’t uproot the lively feel of the restaurant Hanata. Robust green shrubbery hung from the high ceilings, blending into the vibrant green to teal hues painted on the walls. Yuri’s dark denim jeans dragged along the lime green fabric as he situated himself upwards on the cushioned seat to begin sorting through the array of plates Victor insisted on ordering. He lifted his fork to work as a lazy spatula to lift a piece of dark and marbled rye bread to curiously look at what appeared to be some type of meet, egg, and lettuce on top. Deep mahogany colored eyes wandered from the morsel in front of him over to Victor in curiosity.

“It’s roast beef, lettuce, and a quail egg, Yu-ri!” he explained, dislodging a piece of lettuce between his teeth as he gobbled a piece of meat wrapped in a cream-colored sheet. “The manti is really good, too! Wanna try?”

“Did we really need all this food?” Yuri asked, cradling a glass of water in his hands as his anxious eyes started to become drowned by his growling stomach.

“Hungry…Starving!” Victor replied, hurling a spiraled piece of sea bass into his mouth. The ends of his lips pursed together in a satisfactory purr of eating a delicious meal. His pale fingers lifted a rectangular piece off of the circular wood carved board presenting various meat-cheese-bread combinations, holding it out to Yurio, “Here, this one has tiger shrimp, little kitten!”

Of all the things Yurio wished, the ability to pounce like a tiger ranked at the top of the list, especially where Victor was concerned. “Tsk!” he seethed, reaching for the piece and gnawing on it.

“Good, right?”

“You’re still an idiot.”

Tousled curls fell to the side as emerald eyes peered beyond the purple liquid draining from her wine glass. “You should be nicer to Victor, Yuri. There’s a lot you can learn from him!” she teased, her relaxed body leaning against her son. Whether the lean was for comfort or support Yurio couldn’t figure as his own green eyes peered down at his bug-eyed mother. “I knew you were suave, Victor, but I had no idea just the amount until I met you. You’re very charming, you know? You must have had good parents to teach you such good manners.”

The smidgen of white ricotta stuck to the edge of Yuri’s chin as he halted mid bite to wait for Victor’s reply. The greys of Victor’s brow furrowed as he finished chewing his own piece of rye topped with roast beef, each chew raising Yuri’s heart beat another degree until he was sure the entire restaurant was being serenaded by the bumps. “Yurio’s done well this season, despite his age. You must’ve spotted his potential early.” Victor exclaimed, tipping his wine glass up before taking a sip.

Bright eyes bugged as Tiphanie’s small hands hit the ends of the table, causing the plates to clink with the shift. “I know!!! I knew he’d be perfect for figure skating. I got him into ballet and skating as soon as I saw it. He used to do dance workout tapes with me-“

“Really? Yurio?” Yuri choked on his piece, quickly picking up his water to wash down his food.

“Mom!” Yurio spat, a hint of red forming on his cheeks.

The wine sloshed around the glass as she twirled it in her hand innocently, “What? I had to get my figure back! I may not have been an idol anymore, but even bartender needs to look the part to get enough tips!”

“Is that what you do now?” Yuri wondered as he cut into a dumpling, the knife cracking against the porcelain of the plate with each stroke.

“Da. It doesn’t pay as much as he makes...” she answered, nudging her elbow against the cheetah print on the jacket covering Yurio’s ribcage, “but we survive.” Her voice glowed as she emptied her glass.

_I never realized Yurio took care of his whole family. I always paid with my earning for me…but not my…_Finding the last sentence uncomfortable, Yuri pulled his hands together onto his lap as the embarrassment of asking such a prying question heated in his body until his cheeks turned pink. “Oh…I’m, I’m sorry for asking such a…”

Yurio held his hand up as he spoke, “Don’t be, Katsudon. I’d still kill you at competition no matter what!”

Victor snaked his arm around Yuri’s shoulder, giving a gentle reassuring squeeze. “Tiphanie, don’t you want any more to eat?” he asked, offering a plate up to her in an attempt to move the conversation.

“No, thank you. I’m not you boys and can eat whatever I want without gaining a single pound!” she cooed. Yuri lifted a finger to refute the comment of “not gaining a single pound” but retracted on the sight of bringing up more uncomfortable discussion topics might be more unsavory than the truth. No one seemed to pay any notice, as Tiphanie’s profile turned to her son once more, the wine clearly taking over her faculties as she wobbled to poke the tip of his nose with her index finger. “He is so lucky!! He never has to worry about ruining his fame by getting preg-" she started, interrupted by a hiccup.

Emerald eyes flashed a dark green as Yurio visibly winced underneath his fallen blonde locks. He dipped further towards the white tabletop, reaching behind to pull his black hood over his head. Both palms lay flattened on the table as he pushed to stand to his full height.

“I didn’t mean…” his mother pleaded as he turned, “Yuri!”

His voice strained against any possibility of impending tears like he was fighting to hold back an enemy army as he spoke, his back still facing the three “The rings are probably done. Let’s go.” 

.

The frosted air of Russia’s only beginning artic flow paled in comparison to the icy chill emanating from Yurio’s small frame as they made their trek back to Artel’s. Green ice froze like a murky pond in January, the ends of his blonde hair settling under his collarbone from where it dislodged from under the hood as he kept all but his feet completely stiff. Each step slashed through his muscles that he tried to restrain, but that just made Yurio tighten more. He wrapped his arms through his jack pockets around his torso, driving himself forward swiftly from the force of his will alone.

Attempting to pull from the backlog of careless things his mind reminded him of being said, he dragged his phone out of his pocket followed by the strand of connecting earbuds. Each pod secured in his ear, he tapped against the screen to pull up his recent messages until he found the contact: Otabek.

[Give me a song]

[What type of song?]

[Anything. Something loud]

[Okay. Hold on]

[ <https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=NeQM1c-XCDc&feature=share> Rammstein, Deutschland….Try this]

[K.]

[What the hell is he saying?]

[It’s German. It doesn’t matter. Just feel it.]

Pink tipped noses began to sniffle, keeping in the impending nasal drip as the three kept a distance between Yurio and themselves. Frigid fingers sought warmth as Victor gripped Yuri’s hand, stowing their hold in his coat pocket. His ocean colored eyes grazed over the top of the grey beanie hiding away the matte black hair and over to the dirty blonde, catching the dripline on her cheek before her hand wiped it away.

“I…” she began, stifling a creak of a cry in her throat with a cough, “Believe it or not, he was a really good baby. He never fussed or cried. Now, he’s almost half my age and so much more than I-“ her words stopped with the pierce of her teeth into her bottom lip, draining the red from her lipstick-worn lips until the spot matched her pale complexion. Dark blonde hair swayed as she shook her head back and forth, shaking the shackles of regret from her mind as the crossed the narrow street, pausing a few feet to the entrance where Yurio stood. His reflection mirrored in the glass entry door showed only yellow locks and a black hood masking his face.

“Yuri…I…” she started, burying her hands in the confines of her light blue pleated coat. Blue eyes widened as he saw the scowl on underneath the black hood, and Victor wrapped his arm over Yuri to stop their approach.

“You’re not coming in, right?” Yurio said, the depth of his voice reaching somewhere between a growl and a scream locked in a chest, only surfacing a hollow dejected tone. He dipped his head until his chin compressed against his chest.

Tiphanie smiled innocently, wrapping her fingers to rub the back of her neck, “Well, I switched shifts to come here last night. Gotta do the day shift when I get back to Moscow…Everything’s set up with Feliks, so…”

A thin pale hand extended in the air, the black denim falling to expose Yurio’s wrist. “Fine. Later, then.”

“You know I love you, Yurabear.” Tiphanie’s words flowed thick with earnest intent as she stepped closer to wrap her arms around Yurio’s frame in a brief hug.

“I know.”

Yuri watched the goodbyes exchanged in silence, diverting his brown eyes to stare at the cement as Victor stepped behind and wrapped his arms over Yuri’s shoulder, offering some form of shield against the bitter chill of standing still in freezing temperatures. _I’m not really sure who is the adult between them. _

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The blue screen light lit the otherwise dark interior of the car as it spun backwards and out into the road. Silver hair caught waves of yellow against the streetlamps with every passing, Victor’s eyes straight on the road. He knew diverting his eyes over to the where Yuri’s hands held onto his poodle character encased phone, thumbs pressing heavily on the keyboard, that he’d see the pout forming on Yuri’s lips and the furrow in his brow as he narrowed his deep brown eyes.

“You didn’t put the ring on my finger in the jewelers, either, Yuri.” Victor tried a half attempt at smoothing over. _It wasn’t my intention to make him wait, but the mood was so sour after lunch…_

“I didn’t expect Yurio’s mom to be so…” Yuri commented, his eyes darting from the screen to the winding of the light blue hood as Victor whipped around a set of cars. He breathed in a gasp; his breath stuck in his throat as the car snapped to a halt within what looked be just centimeters behind the driver in front.

“Young?” Victor offered an adjective, feeling the shift of topic a relief. Any conversation stood above the prickling quiet he endured while driving Yurio back to Lilia’s. “I didn’t know either. Maybe he can use it for his skating. She still cheers for him…just in her own way.”

The underneath of Yuri’s coat flapped as he shrank into the seat, burying his head mouth-deep beneath his scarf. “Mnh…I guess so.” He said, lingering his thumb on the screen to keep it lit. “Don’t turn. Go up a bit.” He instructed.

Grey brows furrowed as his blue eyes shot a look to Yuri. “Google maps?” he asked, he crooned his neck enough to see the where the red dot circled on the screen, “The Nevsky District?” he pondered on what Yuri could possibly want to go that he hadn’t just asked Victor outright to take him. His blue eyes widened as they shot happiness, his mouth beaming with joy, “Oh! You want to go shopping! Yayyy!”

The cement building wasn’t the architectural marvel of the rustic gothic fixtures that most of St. Petersburg buildings appeared. Squared, stone, and efficient, the high walls of the store Victor looked at not in awe, but in apathy. “Yuri, we are in the shopping district…and you want to go to…Ikea?” Victor’s eyes burned the aqua blue of curiosity and bewildered as he peered down at the black hair sticking out underneath Yuri’s hat.

The grey beanie flew forward and fell with Yuri’s nod. “Mhm.” He said, staring at his phone, “We need a dresser and a bookshelf…” Brown eyes wondered down the Japanese text of the Ikea website on his phone as the automatic glass doors opened.

“WOW!” Victor said, his confused state quickly shifting to ecstatic at the sheer size of the store. White lights clung to the fixtures as gold and red holiday decorations hung from the ceiling, inviting the Christmas tones into the basic industrial setup. His arms extended out in exclamation as Victor scanned over all the different areas, “I haven’t been to one of these in ages! Yuri-look!...”

Black lashes fluttered as he kept his gaze on the screen, his readings drowning out the sounds the overly enthusiastic silver haired Russian as he walked through the entrance. “…the store should be set up similar to the ones in Japan… I could just use translate…” he looked up at the Cyrillic plastered on all of the signs, breathing heavily, “…I need the furniture sec…Oh! I think this is it!”

Rows upon rows upon rows of boxes stacked on steel slates, interrupted only by a few sets of displays flooded in and out of Yuri’s view as he searched for the item in his mind. Yuri moved carefully around the people, keeping his eyes peeled for the dresser he found online. “Are numbers the same in Russian?” Yuri wondered, his dark eyes on glancing up enough to bypass a family. _I didn’t think so many people would be out this late. _“Oh, here it is!” his fingertips reached underneath the picture of a light wood three drawer dresser, comparing it to the image on his screen. “This one looks similar to yours. Neh, Victor?” black hair flung as he whipped his head around in search of silver hair and blue eyes that should have been right behind him. Instead, he found an unsavory brunette teenager looking at him similarly to the way Yurio had before he called him an “Idiot” at the first Grand Prix Final he ever qualified for.

“Sumi masen,” he said, flustered. _Why is this girl looking at me like an insect? _

The teenager swirled a sucker between her lips, her black sneaker tapping as she continued glaring at Yuri. “MOVE!” she snapped, stepping into Yuri’s space as he side stepped, gesturing to allow her room. “Mudak!” she screamed, throwing her shoulder at Yuri. Stunned between the language barrier and the general black aura shrouded around the person, he instinctively flinched back, causing the girl to smirk as she walked away. _Are all Russian teenagers like that? I don’t think Victor was… Right?!? Where the hell did Victor go?_

“V-Victor?!?” Yuri squeaked along with his shoes as they scratched against the cement floor with his brisk stride. Forgetting the dresser behind, he scuffled around the aisles, ducking in and out and around people. Fingers pressed his blue rim glasses up as his reddish-brown eyes scanned over the aisle, searching for any hint of silver. _At least no one else has silver hair. _He thought, spying over the top of a woman leaning over at a display of cutlery, her dull grey reminding him that Victor’s hair sparkled. _I wonder if anyone else in the world looks like him. His family? I wouldn’t know…_

The yellow signs and black bold Cyrillic type did nothing to call out where Victor ran off to, or where Yuri was. Deep brown eyes stared at the unread message on his phone. _Victor isn’t looking at his phone. _The blood in Yuri’s body heated under the anxious threads of what-if’s stitching in Yuri’s mind, presenting in goosebumps and clammy hands as he rungs them together. He looked over the cafeteria, the scent of plastic-like barbequed meatballs repelling the grumbling in his stomach even though he was getting hungry.

Yuri’s head slumped between his shoulders, defeated. _I guess I’ll just wait until he sees the text. No one speaks English for me to ask. I don’t know anyone here. Not anyone related to him. Yurio has his number. Yakov. Victor’s friendly with everyone, but…_

“[We got a picture with him! So cool! He’s so hot!]”

“[I can’t believe it really was Victor Nikiforov!]”

Though every other word meant nothing more than gibberish, Yuri perked when he distinctly heard “Victor Nikiforov.” Two girls walked shoulder to shoulder, typing on their phones to what Yuri could only assume to be uploading pictures to social media. “E-excuse me.” He croaked out, his voice strained from the pressure of his nerves as he called.

Auburn hair flung behind her back as the one closest to him of the pair turned around, cocking her head to the side, “Da?”

“Umm…do you speak English?” he asked, hoping the question wasn’t moot as he watched the girl elbow her blonde friend to turn around. They exchanged a few words in Russian, pointing at Yuri’s increasingly anxiety riddled self as they spoke.

“Eng-rish?” the blonde spoke under a thick Russian accent.

“Ah…yes. Have you seen Victor Nikiforov?” he asked.

Both girls turned to each other and gaped, “VICTOR NIKIFOROV!!!” they screeched a screech only possible for two teenage girls to screech.

“Y-yes…” He began, flooded over in sound by the two girls exchanging squeaking Russian at a pace beyond Yuri’s comprehension of sound, let alone translation. _They sound like Victor does when he explains everything that I did wrong in a program. _

The two girls suddenly stop, their eyes frozen as they stare at Yuri, taking in the brown eyes, black matte hair, button nose, and petite features visible with most of him under winter garb. “Yuri Kat-zuki?” the blonde tried. A faint smile came over Yuri’s face as he relaxed hearing his name, nodding. She perked up and nudged her friend, “Victor Boisfrieend? Zes?”

“H-hai! I mean…Yes!” Yuri eyes glimmered their dazzling brown hearing the word out loud. _I guess it is fiancé, but no one ever called me Victor’s boyfriend. Not to me, anyways. _

The girls mumbled to one another, nodding in agreement before cupping their hands over their mouths, yelling. “[VICTOR NIKIFOROV YOUR BOYFRIEND IS OVER HERE!]

Down the center aisle, in a large steel caged bin with various large stuffed animals, silver hair peaked up the top, followed by blue eyes, and finally an overly enthused heart shaped mouth. “YURI!!!!” he called excitedly, waving his coat clad arm over his head in greeting.

“Victor! Where did you go!? What are you doing?!” Yuri asked, sprinting over to see his fiancé diving back into the bins full of stuffed animals. Silver har flew behind Victor’s ear, dangling off his next to his cheekbone as he pulled out a stuffed dog with curly brown hair.

“Look, Yuri! It’s just like Makkachin!” he mused with delight, pointing the black plastic nose to the tip of Yuri’s. “Bowraw!” he barked, giggling.

“Victor- we get these all the time while skating.” Yuri said.

Blue eyes widened with realization, “Oh, right.”

“This one does remind me of Vicchan, though.” He said, staring into the brown bead for eyes, remembering the scruffy curls of hair that greeted him after every practice until he left for Detroit. Clear tears formed in the waterline of Yuri’s eyes as he tried to sniffle back the impending cry of grief knocking in his chest. _ I never got to say goodbye. _

One, two, three, four, five poodle plushies flew into Yuri’s arms. Catching him from his thoughts as he looked to see Victor’s back end in the air. “Victor! What are you doing!?!?”

“I’m getting all the Vicchan’s for my Yuri!”

“Victor! That’s too much!” Yuri griped, trying to hold the mass of poodles in his arms. _This is the side of Victor only I get to see. _

The two boxes containing a dresser and a bookshelf Victor finally agreed on were tucked in beneath the seven stuffed brown poodles between the backseat and the trunk. Walking hand in hand, Victor and Yuri strolled a little outside the store. Most of the shops closed hours before as dusk turned over into nightfall, but the light from the bars and restaurants still provided enough light to make the path seeable under nightfall.

Silver hair fell as Victor turned to gaze at Yuri’s brown eyes twinkling as he stared at the stars. “Beautiful.” He said, squeezing their held hands.

“Yeah, the stars are so clear here, even in the city.” Yuri said, awestruck by the glittering sky. _I still haven’t asked him about his family. I don’t know when the right time is… _“Ah, Victor…” he started, feeling the warmth of Victor’s fingers leave the thread as he walked forward.

Shining blues sparkled a clear, spying a man seated on a wooden box, a small black leather instrument box in hand. “Ah!” Victor perked, walking swiftly over, unnoticed by Yuri still staring up at the night. “[Do you play any love songs in English?]” he asked the man.

His ginger beard gave him a look older than his years, but the man nodded, picking up his ukulele as Victor dropped a generous amount of rubles into his hand. [For this, I’d play anything! But I only know one song in English from the Elvis Presley]

[Perfect!] Victor beamed, [Thank you!]

Yuri remained upturned, still lingering on what to say, “Victor, I… I just… what if something happens? Who do I call?...”

“….Yuri…”

“Yakov? Yurio? You know everyone I’m close to…”

“Yuri.”

“I don’t know…any..of your fam-“

“Yuri!” Victor’s voice finally broke through the stutters and thoughts trying to ramble off of Yuri’s tongue. His face finally turned downward, facing Victor. A long hand extended outward under the streetlamp. “Dance with me, Yuri?”

“Hah?!? Here?” Yuri balked, looking around at the people still littering the streets.

Victor bounced up and down, “Yes, here! Hurry!’” he said as Yuri’s soft fingertips finally met his. The strum of the ukulele began while Victor wrapped his arm into the small of Yuri’s back, holding the other out as he turned them.

“_Wise men say…Only fools rush in…but I can’t help falling in love with you.”_

<https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=6ThQkrXHdh4&feature=share>


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A little something to set the mood:

<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nTs1mqELIoE>

(Not my creation, but I think it needs more views)

Lilting lifts of vocals singing the melody of their rhythm, the rasp on the end of the note saying everything Yuri felt as his eyes drowned in the crystal blues peaking between the glow of the streetlight with every subtle on beat sway of their hips. _I can’t help…falling in love with you. _ Trading off spins, the dance faded into one another, liquid and cerebral, the type of knowing like water rushing through rocks in a stream. Victor took Yuri’s hand, twirling him as he spun in the tip of his sneaker until he fell flesh against Victor’s coat covered chest. Mirroring the momentum, Yuri opened to let Victor turn around, the ends of his dark coat flapping as his kicked his foot out for flair. One to one, step to step, every motion tapping together with a fluidity not only of steps, but of souls.

The final strums of the ukulele sounded through the coarse windy air, and Yuri not only heard the languid tones of the busker but a chorus of thick Russian accents joining in the popular tune. Faded edges of the spinning world fell back into focus behind Victor’s silver hair and adoring smile, and Yuri realized for the first time of the gathering of people around them. Men, women, boys and girls, all bundled in winter gear with hats, scarves, and fur hoods. The claps muffled by gloves, still echoed out in the frigid air.

Air kicked up with Victor’s wide wave to the crowd, [Hello, everyone! Thank you!] he exclaimed brightly to the people as they began to disperse, trickling with nods and smiles past him and a pink cheeked Yuri. His blue eyes looked on Yuri with love as his fingers fished for the box stowed in his pocked containing their rings.

“Yuri.” He said, puling the small blue box to balance it on his palm. His black shoes scuffed against the concrete as he stepped backwards, resting on his heal until the lamp above acted as a spotlight for his hand. Yuri’s eyes begged eagerness with every step to follow, his hands rubbing together to garner any sort of warmth while he sought for the etchings on their rings hidden inside.

Gently, long pale fingers wrapped around the lid, prying open until the gold gleaned against the light, sparking the radiance in those brown eyes. Yuri stood shoulder to should against Victor, tilting his head as Victor positioned the rings, sliding his slightly larger along the top until the match. A gasp breathed from Yuri’s lips like the first time he saw Victor skate, marveling at the inside of their rings. “You see, one snowflake on each of our rings small on the outside. And then together…” Victor drifted, choosing to show Yuri as the pieces latched on top of on another, forming a large snowflake etched together. “All snowflakes are different…so only you and I will ever have this one.” Victor explained, releasing his grip as Yuri reached forward to take them into his own hand.

Settling the bands between his fingers, brown eyes took their searching shine as Victor wrapped his arms around Yuri’s waist. “Are you surprised?” he asked, his silver strands resting on the think stiff fabric of Yuri’s coat as he laid his chin on the left shoulder.

“Mhm!” Yuri nodded.

“I should put that back on your finger…” Victor said, his fingers beginning to stretch upwards to the gold until Yuri stepped out to the side, flipping until they stood face to face. Blue eyes squinted and widened in confusion as he stared at the jittering black-haired man, sniffling an anxious breath beneath him.

_I’m not sure what Yuri is doing, but I’ll trust his decision. _

Beginning to blister red from the cold, fingertips nudged against the two gold bands, fidgeting as Yuri looked down, huffing a sigh. “No…I… I should do this right this time.” _Everything was so fast the when I got these rings…I didn’t even realize what they meant….what I really wanted them to mean. But seeing the snowflakes, I know. “_Victor, thank you for not just being my coach…but being Victor. Umm….this isn’t just for good luck. This is for being my…uhmmm…soulmate…”

“Huh?” Victor said, shaking his head as the words caught up to him, leaving his breath latched beneath his throat. _Soulmate. _

Gold glistened off band as Yuri’s sleek fingers once again pushed the band up Victor’s soft ring finger. Hitching a breath and crinkling his black brows with resolution, Yuri stuttered the word, “V-Victor... will you take care of me, forever?”

A smile escaped from Victor that put every gold medal kiss secondary to the joy of this moment. His fingers lightly grabbed Yuri’s band out from his palm and placed it once again on the finger is belonged, like the missing piece of his appendage. His hand cupped Yuri’s cheek, leaning to draw a kiss from his frozen lips, heating with warmth in every moment until Victor pulled away, the blue of his eyes sparkling sapphires a tone Yuri never quite saw before. “Alright, Yuri. It won’t be easy, but that’s love.”

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Screws, washers, a few bolts, and an Allen wrench lay strewn across the light wood floor, piled into mounds for their certain purpose. White paper from the booklet crinkled as Yuri opened it, leaving nothing but the tips of his hair sticking out as he pressed his nose against the directions like the closeness would make them mean any sense. _ I should have just ordered it from Japan…at least it has English directions, too. _Trimmed fingernails still managed to scrape along his scalp as Yuri scratched his head in confusion, eyes darting between the pages to the randomly sized pieces of board in front of him. “Section A goes into the B slot… what’s a B slot?” he asked himself.

Porcelain clinks against the glass coffee table as Victor sets the teacup for Yuri gently on the edge near to him. His black sweatpants pull up further on his ankle as Victor sat on the opposite edge of the couch, crossing his leg under himself. “Yuri, isn’t it simple…you just…” he begins, gesturing out to the planks and parts.

“No, you have to read the directions first…”

“It’s more fun if you put it together without following directions…here, let me show you…” Victor said, reaching to put his own cup on the table as he leaned over Yuri. Brown eyes beckon red with irritation and not lust, looking up in Victor’s deep blues with the first sight of hesitance for Victor showing him something. “Do you not want my help?” Victor asks, the bottom plush of his lip pushing out in a pout.

“Ah, no…if you want to help…Y-you can build the bookshelf?” his index finger pointed out to the large box leaning against the television stand Makkachin currently used as a rest to lean against.

Blue eyes sparked with an idea, a mischievous grin growing from the outskirts of Victor’s mouth. “Did you want to compete?”

“Hah?”

“See who can get done faster?”

“What?”

“You said you didn’t need my help, right? So why not make it a competition.”

Yuri balked, his brown eyes staring in hesitance while his competitive side itched in him. _Does he really think he can build the bookshelf without reading the directions? _Yuri thought, glancing from the photo of the five-tiered black bookshelf to Victor’s practically drooling with dare blue eyes. Victor leaned in closer, practically testing the tip of Yuri’s nose with his lip. “What does the winner get?” Yuri asked, resigning a heavy sigh of defeat.

“Whatever he wants.” Victor purred, stealing a quick kiss before bouncing off to the box on the other side of the room.

Fogged by trying to piece together screws in holes that shouldn’t need screws in those holes, but the other holes, Yuri drugged through the task of putting together Swedish factory prepped furniture in silence, his thoughts too loud to be distracted by whatever Victor was doing. _You put the edge of the H panel into the D peg…and then you….WHAT?!? Baka! _

With a whine and a whap, Makkachin’s long tail whipped against the television stand, batting the largest Matryoshka doll tumbling on the floor. Yuri glanced up with a gasp, finally torn from his furious twiddling attempt at furniture creation, spotting the swirls of off0white, red, and green whirling as the doll spun.

“Careful, Makkachin.” Victor scolded laxity, bending to pick the doll up Yuri recognized from the set he had on display in Hasetsu and place it back with the smaller pieces. “These are special.” he said to Makkachin, ruffling the brown curled fur.

Brown eyes expanded as his mouth dropped in awe, beholding the bookshelf like an erected statue. Taking pride in his accomplishment, Victor stood next to it, placing his hands on either side of his hips, holding down his white t-shirt. “What do you think?” he asked cheerfully, the ends of his mouth drawing heart shape with ecstasy.

“You already finished!?!”

“Yes, it was really simple, I just look at the edges of the boards and then….” Victor’s words started giving the sound like a hamster wheel, squeaking beyond Yuri’s comprehension as he stared slack jawed on his knees.

“Of course, you would just get it, you’re Victor!” Yuri said, his palm smacking against his forehead with a loud slap.

Long thin feet barely padded against the wooden floor as Victor steeped over to stand in front of Yuri. Lips found their way through black coarse hair to rest on Yuri’s forehead, pressing gently against the top as Victor held the back of Yuri’s head with his hand. “Come find me when you’re done”

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. Flash

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The last sound of screw fastening into place melded with a sigh of finality as Yuri stood up, looking at the light hued wooden dresser with the pride of a won battle. Not nearly the workout a few hours skating made for, but Yuri slid the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping the miniscule bead of sweat off regardless. Turning, his grey shirt caught the edge of the drawer, rolling outward until it landed with a crash on the floor, sending Yuri in a panic as he whipped back around.

“Maybe I should have asked Victor for his help” he spoke to the seven sets beaded black eyes staring at him as he lifted the drawer, setting it back into place. One of the plush brown furred poodles whined, tail banging against the floorboard with each whap. Yuri’s eyes softened as he kneeled to give Makkachin a scratch, curling his fingers into the permed fur under the chin. “Don’t worry, they can’t replace you.” He assured.

“Victor?!?” Yuri called, raising his voice just loud enough he hoped that Victor was in earshot. Dark brown eyes scanned the room as his bare feet stepped past the couch and through the entrance into the hall that conjoined the kitchen, listening for any sound of Victor’s voice. No lilting phrases. No cheery cackling. No index finger pointed up one-liners that made Yuri not know whether to laugh or sink to the floor. Only the echoes of rushing water across porcelain were audible as everything quelled to a silent gnaw, nipping into the night as the hectic rush of cars and stragglers drunkenly stepping outside petered to none.

Feet stepped over feet, traveling on caution as Yuri approached the white door to the bathroom. Hesitating, he pressed his ear against the painted wood to listen to the muffled sounds of water rushing from the faucet and the distinct drop of something plopping down to submerge beneath the bath. “Ahhh- Victor, I-uhm finished the…”

“Yuri? Is that you?” Victor called through the door, “Open the door.”

“Oh…I didn’t want to…” Yuri started, to mist of the heat from the bath fogging his glasses, creating a white frothing curtain as he let his brown eye linger up as his height. The view of Victor’s damp arm hanging off the lip of the curved white bathtub, beads of water streaming down his pale chest before they met back with the rest of the basin left Yuri’s throat dry. _No matter how many times I see him…he’s still…Victor. _

Soft white towel folded atop Victor’s forehead, pressing against the damp silver strands that stuck to the sides of his face as his blue eyes caught the brown, his face drawing up into a satisfactory knowing grin. “What did you want?” he asked, casually running his long fingers along his shoulders.

“I finished the dresser. You said to come find you…”

“Well, come find me.” Victor purred, gesturing his arm outward to beckon Yuri forward. “Yu-ri” the deep soulful voice of sultry beckoned Yuri forward.

Swallowing in an attempt to bring any amount moisture to the desert his mouth seemed to succumb to even in the humidity of the bathroom, with vapors leaving his skin damp from the wet heat, Yuri began to feel the corners of the rim of his t shirt and thrust upward. Dew dropping on his torso, Yuri’s thin hands peeled his bottoms off, both layers in one. Brown eyes stared; the vulnerability locked in his unsure gaze. Of all the times he exposed himself in front of Victor, this time he felt the most naked.

Stripped to skin, Yuri pinched his blue rims on his glasses, pulling them forward until he could fold them back, the lenses still fogged as he placed them atop his folded clothes. Each step to the tub brought the notch another level higher until he felt a cool chill of porcelain against his knee. Before he could square a look in the clear water, his body toppled into a half fold as Victor grabbed his hand, dragging him into the water with a splash.

“Whatttdyou- Victor!” Yuri spat, bits of water spewing from his lips like a small fountain as he hacked, pressing a fist against his chest to pound down the startle. His body formed in the curve of Victor, his back resting against Victor’s broad chest as the water settled down from the splash.

Lips pressed against the tip of Yuri’s hair, the heat of Victor’s breath turning the hair on Yuri’s neck to pine needles. Black spikes bent as Victor’s wet hand wrapped over, threading fingers through the coarse dark strands until Yuri’s bangs wetted down backwards show style, revealing the slightly perturbed but mostly intrigued brown eyes glaring back at Victor.

Essence of lavender and chamomile lifted through the vapors, filling the air with a sweetly calming aroma while Yuri adjusted to his bare body melding into Victors. Arms hugged over his shoulders as threads of silver hair tickled against Yuri’s cheek. His shoulders loosened, sinking into the relaxation of the warm bath and the embrace that melted the iceberg of anxiety always threatening to capsize Yuri’s emotions if someone got close. Black lashes curled upwards as his lids fell down halfway over the brown eyes with shining bit of red hinting through.

“This is what I wanted. This is my reward.” Victor said, his voice barely above a whisper, lifting his fingers to pull the rag from his forehead to wet down in the bath. Softly, he pushed the wet rag against Yuri’s shoulders, the heat rising with steam off his clavicle. Deft fingers ran along gingerly along the top of Yuri’s arm, feeling the bumps raise to the touch.

“Hmm?” Yuri asked, his mind drifting out of focus as the water soothed him to an entrancement of tranquility. Black hair fell sideways as Yuri rolled his head on his shoulder, opening himself unknowingly for lips to tease against the skin.

Fingers stretched the curve of Yuri’s outer thigh, dragging the imprints fluidly through the water. Victor savored the sound of Yuri’s breathing rhythm increasing as he wrapped his arms around the slender waist, joining his hands monetarily as Yuri’s naval. “I know it’s not the onsen…but…” he purred, replacing the silence of waiting for his next words with his lips, “We can’t do everything there…”

“Huhh---ahhhhh!” Yuri yelped, his voice breathy and elongated as his brown eyes shot open, pulses a pleasure rushing through as he felt a firm hand grab around his center, the already emerging arousal twitching to the stroke. The sudden shock trailing into his leg, earning a reflexive kick in response. Water splashed, muting the soft chuckle of amusement from Victor as he continued his experienced strokes.

Heat surfacing around and within, leaving Yuri a loss for any cohesive form of words to dispel off his lips as the sensation of Victor’s hand gliding from tip to stem, working around the pink throbbing top and back down without any hint of hesitation along with the warm water surrounding shooting stars in his body, soul, and mind. Victor drank in the display of Yuri’s breathy gasps, the way his back arched and back end pushed into Victor’s own center as the slickness of the water rendered Yuri incapable of stiffening his legs to hold himself up, his head handing heavy on Victor’s shoulder as beads of sweat mixed with water and streamed down his pectoral muscle.

Lips found lips and danced along the edges, teasing Yuri as Victor pressed in to linger on the kiss. Soft slick mouth deepening the kiss, pushing further in until Yuri breathed an opening for tongues to twist into tongues; darting around as the taste buds drove bursts from lightening sparking from there and within.

“V-V-Victor, if…you…wanted…to…why didn’t you tell me? I can…too” Yuri spoke through panted breaths, trying to recollect himself as Victor slowed the momentum of his hand.

Lips touched against his nose as Victor nuzzled against Yuri’s face, pieces of wet black hair stick to his cheek in each turn. ““Surprised you, didn’t I?” Victor purred, his breath raising the needles along with a flush grazing over Yuri’s cheek.

“Of course you did! No one surprises me like you!”

“Did you want to continue in the bedroom?” Victor asked, his voice dripping with lust as his blue eyes burned a deep sapphire. The red of Yuri’s deep brown matched his own depth, and he knew, his toe popping the drain…

No words needed spoken.

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Shots of sunlight broke through the darkness of night, stretching outward with its rays until they pierced through the window, though slightly off center from where Yuri had gotten used to light. Fingers grabbed at the end of what would be the comforter, Yuri feeling a stiff fabric instead of plush expertly threaded comforter he had accustomed himself to feeling in the three short days sins their arrival in St. Petersburg. Still trying to persuade himself that the itchy fabric must be something his still mostly asleep brain was misinterpreting as itchy; Yuri kept his eyes squeezed shut. Tightening until his lids looked wrinkled, Yuri remained in the darkness, shifting his feet behind him to search for any part of Victor’s warm body that should be behind him this early in the morning.

The chill of the sheets behind him sent frosty waves into his spine as Yuri shivered in the curiosity. _It can’t be that late in the morning…No way Victor is up already. Why is it so cold? _Yuri thought, running his fingers over the oddly gruff cotton sheet, roaming around for his phone to see the time. Swiping his arm upwards and then down, Yuri groaned, rolling over onto his back with a thud against the firm mattress top. Millimeter by millimeter, his lashes fluttered as his eyes recoiled against the light exposure as he tried begrudgingly to open them for the first time since he settled into a blissful sleep beneath Victor’s soothing arm. The lingering feeling of soft thumb strokes against the center of his chest felt enough of a memory to forge his way back into sleep even before his eyes could focus on a blob of grey surrounding the bed.

The cusp of slumber beckoning him back into the rhythms of sleep so strong, the sound of what would seem a large latch opening didn’t jolt Yuri to wake. Neither did the shuffling of silver scratching against silver jostle him from the arms of torpor.

“Sleep is for another time, your majesty.” A recognizable soft voice spoke, pulling Yuri unwillingly from his sleep in a snap.

Brown eyes shot open, widening at the person standing before him head tilted in confusion as he shrieked, “Yuuko-san!! What’re you doing here?” Yuri sat straight up stiffly, clambering backwards until his head smacked against the headboard.

Yuko’s lighter red eyes softened, the pieced of her auburn hair falling as she furthered her head cock until she matched height with Yuri’s shocked gaze. “I brought you your tea, your majesty.” She said, bowing as she politely backed up from the edge of the bed, gesturing to the small circular table with a velvet cushioned deep oak chair next to it. There, atop the table sat a silver tray with an elongated teapot and cup of the same style. The ends of her long billowing dark green skirt ruffled as she stepped back over to the table, reaching to pick up the teapot from the thin curved handle. Steaming dark liquid poured from the sieve, filling the cup with the contents as the sweet aroma of tea sifted through the air, leaving Yuri with nostalgia of home at Yutopia.

The room finally came into focus for Yuri as his eyes scanned over the area. Tall grey stone walls surrounded the wide room instead of the white walls of their apartment. A dark wood wardrobe lined the wall facing him, not the blue ottoman. “Where am I?” he wondered, the unease of new territory seeping into his wary mind as he clutched the odd deep violet blanket, hoisting his further up over his exposed chest.

“If he’s being weird again you can just bash him in the skull.” A deep voice rattled from the doorway, the bulk of armour weighting against the man’s torso as he let out a chuckle, small eyes getting lost behind puffed cheeks.

“Nishigori!” Yuri cried, flailing backwards until he rolled out of bed with a yelp.

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_Flash_

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Between the timespan of the blankets hurling over him and the present, Yuri landed against the padded chair bottom with a thud. Whips of black hair fall around back into some semblance of a place as brown eyes once again try to refocus to the scene.

“There appear to be infiltrators from the west.” A voice came in, smooth and deep, though Yuri’s eyes remained fixated on the blue shirt and dark colored vest he somehow found himself wearing. When and how he changed appeared to be a mystery.

“Hmmph. The usual marks?” an older woman’s voice asked, the voice distinctly reminding him to straighten up where he sat and maintain good posture, though none of the words actually said gave any indication at all. Warily, Yuri lifted his gaze from the center point of a rustic wooden table peering from his nose down as he dragged his eyes upward, seeing the long length of the table with at least twenty chairs seated empty around.

_Just like I thought, Minako-sensei and Otabek? At the farthest end of the table. They don’t look like them. Everything looks like a remnant of an old-time war movie with swords and…_

“Yes, two of everything missing. Farmers report crops, animals.” Otabeck continued, shuffling his torso do his belt with the sword satchel rested against his upturned hip.

“People?” Minako asked, looking down at a large paper in front of her, the edges worn and yellowed with time.

“Mhm. An elderly couple, yesterday.”

“The sigil?” she sighed, her brows beginning to furrow.

“Yes, the very same ones from before.” Otabek stated, his stoic form showing a slight caution as his dark eyes glinted with worry, flashing downwards to meet with the mahogany hues gaping at him. “What do you wish to do, your majesty?”

Yuri’s head shook, trying to ring out the words spoken to him, “W-what do I want to do?” he stammered.

“Yes, your majesty.” Otabek nodded, his sleeves ruffling as his black vest tightened. “My apologies, we’ve been following the Masquerade closely, but we haven’t been able to get close enough to verify who anyone is.”

None of the words said by Otabek pieced together any of what Yuri saw before him. His hands grabbed as the sides of his head as brown eyes bulged, the level of hysteria reaching the tipping point in his mind as he lamented, “Masquerade? Infiltrators? Everyone is wearing time pieces and carrying swords…Did I get dropped into a Dragon Quest game?!?!”

Minako places her hand on her hip, quirking a skeptical brow at the sight, “He’s done it again. Take him to Giacometti, he should clear things up.”

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Flash

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Long lavender robes draped over the grass, green blades snapping as the bejeweled shoe clad foot stepped gingerly around Yuri’s lithe body, his own blue ensemble of tights, vest, and button up shirt as stiff as Yuri himself. The folds of the purple colored robe sleeve tapered the ground as two arms wrapped themselves around Yuri, chin stubble scratching his pale cheek as the face drew near. “Now, you wouldn’t have to work so hard to master this if you felt from your center.” A deep breathy voice spoke into his ear, causing Yuri to flinch upwards and spy the blonde shaggy top.

“Chris! My center?” he asked, looking as the light to dark fade of Chris’s hairdo as green eyes beamed mischievously at him. “What are you talking about?!?”

Chris huffed a laugh, gazing amusedly at the frustration creasing along Yuri’s brow as he folded his arms, “Your center of yourself. It’s where the reservoirs of your magic are stored. No, try conjuring the ice again.” He instructed, “Hold out your arms, like so.” He went behind Yuri once more, lifting his arms until they were level with Yuri’s shoulder. “There…now… find your center”

Yuri kept a keen eye on the gardens around him, listening to the distant sound of hooves clacking along the stone. A hand laid flat against his torso, covering his naval. “Ahh…Chris…I don’t think you have to be that close for me to find my center.”

“Right, your majesty.”

“Why does everyone keep calling me your majesty?” Yuri said, _I don’t know what center he means. _Yuri thought, focusing all his concentration to see if anything at all would flow out from his hands. Nothing did. Not blue, or wet, or anything resembling ice poured from him at all save for sweat droplets of anxiety creeping down his neck.

“Still as useless as ever, I see. He’ll never be able to hold the shard like that.” Staunch words drag from the top of a white horse, the only thing visible in Yuri’s like of sight are white stockings beneath black knee length pants.

“You’ll ruin his concentration!” scolded a voice far off. Somehow, Yuri knew looking up to see who the voices were would lose whatever progress he seemed to have made in trying to convince himself that he wasn’t insane and actually conjuring some sort of internal ice maker.

Another trot of a horse halted to a stop, the sound of a leg whipping over the saddle and landing with a steep clunk on the ground, bits of dust puffing over the black boots. “Ah! Chris, it doesn’t look like his majesty has found his center.” The voice said cheerfully, the swish of his tight pants sounding louder than anything else in Yuri’s mind as he tried not to let his eyes wander over.

“I tried to show him what the center was…but…” Chris shrugged, pushing the tip of his circular frames up his nose with his index finger to begin reading from his book once again.

“Not _that center, _Chris.” The voice scolded, earning another shrugging glance and a smirk from Chris in return.

“Great! Another conquest for the gallant Victor-“ the voice atop the white horse rambled again.

“V-Victor?!?” Yuri squealed, his eyes braking as his body remained in form to find the man standing in front of him. Those ocean blue eyes waded in a calm tide, rushing over a soothing balm in Yuri’s anxious mind as the lips shined in the sunlight, drawing into an open and engaging smile.

“Yes, your majesty?” Victor held forth his hand palm out, his black vest fitted to his form as his wine hues cape flew out against the breeze. “Did your teacher tell you what the center was?” he asked coolly.

“N-no.”

“Well…” Victor began, stepping forward to Yuri’s side, pressing his hand to wrap around Yuri’s side, his fingers indenting into the sheen navy vest. “It’s something carried in all of us. It comes in different forms. Some innocent, some for just family, some for just friends, and some…” his voice deepened so much that it reverberated in tingles down Yuri’s spine until he felt the words as apart of his body, “…are for pleasures…but most importantly, they’re all..”

“Love.” As Yuri said the words triggered a force within, shooting two beams of ice from his palms out ward, straight at the feet of the white horse. The horse whinnied kicking his front legs, as the rider toppled backwards, long legs spiraling over locks of blonde hair as the boy landed on his back end in the dust.

A belly of laughter rallied from both Chris and Victor as they held their sides from the force of the chuckles. “Serves you right, Yurio. You may be nobility, but not even you have the right to insult the king!” Victor said through fits of giggles.

_KING!!!_

_._

_Flash_

_._

“The only way to solve the problem to the east is with this union!” Nishigori stated, pounding his fist against the table in another room. This time the place smelled of dust and books to Yuri, who peered over a stack at the ornately carved wooden desk he was seated as to see who was in the room with him. _Okay, Nishigori, Chris, Victor….and Minako-sensei? What are they doing surrounding a map with little figures, are they playing a game? _

“If that’s not what he wants now…” Victor started, his arms folded over himself, wearing an uncharacteristically stern look as his jawline tightened.

Minako pushed her hair behind her shoulder, leaning to grab as one of the black pieces on the board, moving it to the center, “If he pulls his acceptance from them, they’ll attack, along with the others on the coast…”

“There goes the alliance.” Chris chimed in, turning to place a large book behind him.

“We need them if we ever hope of defeating the Masquerade and bringing peace to the people.” Otabek said, grazing over the board in front of them.

“Mhmm.” Victor’s usual smile flatlines as he turns to face the brown eyes looking from the desk with his blues, “Your majesty, what do you want to do?”

“Call me Yuri.”

.

Flash

.

The hall streamed golds and reds, reminding Yuri of the Palace Victor showed him in their escapades the day after arriving in St. Petersburg. This time, he sat at the end of the ornate glittering staircase the red velvet carpet rolled out to him. Women in ballgowns and men in timely suits danced to the violin music strumming in the background as Yuri watched them twist and flow, sometimes changing to men dancing with men and women with women as the tune carried on.

Rhythms flowing at a party pace as champagne drizzled and poured from glasses to mouths. The waltz carried on with laughter and high voices jeering to one another as Yuri felt unease in his exposure amidst the large carriage of people enjoying what seemed to be a lively foray.

“I’m sure I could request a drink if you wanted one, your majesty.” Victor whispered against his ear, catching Yuri off guard. He winced and recoiled, looking up at the wine cap draped over a more formal clad Victor. _He looks almost like his Aria costume. _Yuri thought, staying his eyes a moment to linger over Victor’s still taught frame.

“I told you to call me Yuri.”

“That’s right, you did. Your Maj- Yuri,” silver tresses tumbled as Victor nodded and winked. “Did you want to dance?”

Yuri looked out onto the dance floor and then back at Victor’s shining blue eyes, “Oh, uhmm…with you?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Y-yes!” Yuri nodded emphatically. Brown eyes twinkled as the watched Victor’s soft hand extend out to reach for his own. His fingers treaded over the hand, matching palm to palm as Yuri rose to walk alongside Victor to the dance floor. Toe to toe, the music flowing through their bodies as they wound around the dancefloor, the other dancers filtered out of their minds. Brown eyes focused into the blues, losing himself to the winds of the music and the depth of the ocean lingering in those irises. Yuri’s hand perched on Victor’s shoulder and Victor returned the same side hand to wrap around Yuri’s waist as Yuri surrendered lead for this moment. Yuri felt content being swept away by his knight carrying them over the dancefloor.

The blue flecks stopped their storybook glow for a moment, darkening as Victor spoke stiffly, “Your betrothed will arrive shortly…I’m sure your excited.”

“Betrothed?!?!” Yuri deadpanned.

“Yes-uhm… is something wrong, Yuri?”

“This is my dream! Why aren’t I marrying you?!?” Yuri yelled, stopping in the motion. Blue eyes widened, Victor gasping as the words as he took a step back.

“Yuri…I can’t…I’m your kni-“Victors words tapered off, drowned by the sound of trumpets blasting a welcoming alert.

Chris gathered himself in the center, unraveling a scroll from his both ends as he read aloud, “Now joining us on this most blessed occasion, a union in marriage that will bridge the ties between us and our now eastern ally. From the tide lands, please hail King Yuri’s fiancé…”

Yuri peered between the swarm of people, looking through them to gaze at the group of men, all in red puffed pants and tops, a gold satchel tied around each of their waists. _This looks like everyone is in Phichit’s short program out- _Yuri thought, drifting as he saw long brown hair cascading down the man’s still red clad but athletic physique. “Celestino?” Yuri asked to himself, looking to the middle to find obsidian hued eyes gazing cheerfully at him, waving, “Phichit! I’m supposed to marry Phichit!?!”

“Yuri!” Phichit called, giggling excitedly from the center of the hall, “Long time, no see!”

A cough to call attention came from Chris’s lungs, his brow quirked, “If I may continue…King Yuri’s fiancé to celebrate their union with this ball. Now that all have arrived…”

“NOT SO FAST!” a voice hollered from the chandelier as a black figure dropped down. “I don’t believe I ever received an invitation. How sad.” The voice behind the black mask said.

Victor stepped in front of Yuri; his blade gleaned against the crystals of the chandelier as he drew his sword. “The Masquerade. Stay behind me!” Victor instructed.

“How’d he get in here?” Yurio hollered, rushing to Victor’s side, sword drawn.

The crowds of frightened gathered rushed to the sides, taking shelter behind whatever they could find. Tables turned over, silver trays for shields, some men and women stood, their own swords drawn to face against the black clad figure standing at eye level with Victor. Phichit’s men gathered around him as well, armed for whatever ill had befallen them this night.

Minako, Nishigori, and Otabek rounded from the entrance, their boots padding on the velvet carpet as they rushed to join Victor’s side. “If one is here…they’re all here.” Minako whispered.

“Ah! Good guess! I’d thought his majesty’s retainer denser than that!” the masked man taunted, clapping his hands down twice. More dark clothed figures fell from the pillars, hidden under white sheets. “He is…after all…weak.”

“He’s not weak!” Victor cried, thrusting his sword to charge at the masked man. From the depths of the cloak, the mans own sword surfaced, clinking against Victor’s just before the blade slit his scalp.

Swords against swords, the men and women thrust and dove, changing around to fight. Brown eyes could only look, frozen in fear at the spectacle before his eyes. He spotted Yurio at battle with a masked person towering over him, his blade giving under the pressure. Instinctively, Yuri thrust his arms out, ice bursting from his hands, knocking down the figure as he screamed, “No!”

The black masked lead turned his head, brought from the folds of fighting by the icy mist surrounding him. “Oh…so he’s finally found his power!”

Victor heaved his sword forward, pushing the leader back as he hollered, “Yuri! RUN!” he grabbed onto Yuri’s hand and shot through the crowd, the rest of the brigade closing in the line to give time for an escape.

Feet traveled at a lightning pace, turning through hallways and ducking into corridors Yuri didn’t have a chance to register before he was thrust into a room. Panting heavily, Victor stepped into Yuri, both his hands pressing on his shoulder. “You can’t…show anyone…your power…”

“But it’s just love…you said everyone had it!”

Hands threaded through black spikes, pushing them back to reveal his brown eyes as Victor’s blue spiraled in fear. Lips found themselves unable to hold back, drawn in to soothe the trembling from Yuri’s frame. Soft and delicate, the push lasted only a second before the release. “Yours… is the life. Yours is life that gives everyone their love. Life and Love come from you, Yuri.”

“Huh?”

One more kiss and Victor pulled back leaning his forehead against Yuri’s, “Forgive me. I couldn’t resist. Stay here. I’ll come back and explain everything, okay?” Victor said, allowing the nod from Yuri’s overwhelmed and confused mind be the agreement for him to take leave, and in a moment, the door was shut. Yuri heard what sounded like a large wooden latch pull over the top of the door…and then silence.

Fingers ran along his lips, still tingling from the sensation of Victor’s lips against his own as he listened in the silence. The glow of the moon only illuminated enough to see the small table and the shadow of the bedpost he remembered from the morning. “It’s only been one day?”

“Night can be longer than the day if you become swallowed by it.” A soft, nostalgic voice said in the darkness.

Yuri stepped into the room, grazing over everything to find the source. “Who’s there?” he asked.

Caught in the silhouette by the moonlight, a person set perched on the stone windowsill. He stepped closer, inch by inch, trying to see the features of the voice that seemed so familiar. “Who…are you?” He asked again as he approached.

The backlight of the moon left the face as dark and empty as the room appeared, but Yuri caught a glimpse of a grin and a flash of blue eyes, “I’m the past, Yuri. And I’m coming quicker than you realize.” It said, tipping itself back.

“What-“ he began, as the hands slipped out falling out of the windowsill. Long threads of silver hair falling out of the black cloak as Yuri choked, running to the ledge to see, everything entrenched in darkness but the sould of fluttering fabric. “VICTOOOR!”


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Yuri woke with a start.

Shivers trickled down his spine. Not the warm electrifying ones from the night before, but tremors of terror coursing through his body as he snapped to sit upright. Covers crinkled around his waist as he gripped his heart like he could replace the air into his lungs by sheer force alone. Lungs expanded and retracted with fever, burning crystal embers of fear and delirious rage. Deep brown eyes expanded in the darkness, Yuri’s mind replaying the sight of silver strands submerging into darkness over and over again with each quick breath.

Once breaths needy and short under moon became gasps, unrhythmic and wrought with panic, in the break of day. Yuri twisted, pounding his flat palm down with a thump in search of the pale frame next to him. Hand landed on flesh with a smack, jarring Victor enough to stir.

“Yuri?” he asked, rousing enough to lean up from his side on his elbow, rubbing his shoulder as he winced from the slap.

“Sumi masen.” Yuri replied, feeling the guilt of waking Victor gut into him.

Flecks of silver sparkled in the glow of the base of daylight, casting a yellow ember like fire into the room as Victor sat up straighter. Long arms reached to feel the shakes still triggering through Yuri’s body, latching to pull him closer. “Did you have that dream again?” Victor asked as Yuri’s round cheek sunk flesh against Victor’s bare chest, feeling the nod for “yes” as black feather wisps brushed against his chilling skin. “You’ve dreamt that every night this week.” He spoke, mostly rhetorically as he threaded his fingers through the black strands of hair, pushing them backwards until he could make out the shadow of Yuri’s black lashes. “What do you think it means?”

Thin shoulder etched into Victor’s side, causing him to wince as Yuri shrugged. “It’s just a dream. I…don’t like thinking of you... just gone.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Mmm…you’re the only one I know with silver hair.” He explained, lifting his fingers to softly sift through the fringe dangling down Victor’s cheek. He felt the squeeze tighten against his ribcage as Victor held him tight, leaning forward to press a kiss against Yuri’s forehead.

“I like that you’re dreaming about me…but I wish it was something different.” Victor pouted, though his mouth began to draw into a mischievous grin, sapphire eyes flaming blue in the sun rays lighting the mostly dim room.

“Like what?”

“Like what you dreamed in the hotel room at the All Japan.”

Victor felt the heat of Yuri’s cheek on his chest blistering the skin. Flinching, Yuri sat up with a snap, twisting onto his knees as he held himself up on his palms. Black hair in complete disarray as it tumbled with the shift. “You knew?!? How? I told you I didn’t remember anything!?”

Blue eyes twinkled with amusement as Victor leaned forward, coaxing a gentle snippet of a kiss from Yuri’s lips. He drew back, purring with half lidded eyes, “You said my name. In your sleep.”

“Shimatta.”

Nose to nose, Victor leaned in, “So, what was the dream…Yuri?” he asked voice low and sensual, leaving Yuri’s body in tingles as Victor spoke against his lips.

“Uhm—ahh…” Yuri stammered.

“Yu-ri, why won’t you tell me?” Victor’s eyelashes fluttering as he lifted up, dragging his body overtop of Yuri as he listened to the stuttering “uhms” and “ohs” beneath him. His tongue slotted the opening of Yuri’s parted mouth, tasting a kiss before he lifted. “I did something you liked, right?”

On the cusp of bearing the details, Yuri attempted, his voice in heavy sighs, “Well…umm…what you’re doing now…umm..”

The shine of Victor’s wetted lips brightened as he beamed with excitement, “What, Yuri?”

Yuri dragged a deep breath, his feet dragging into Victor’s thighs as he pushed himself out, scrambling for the door, “I’m going to take a shower!”

.

.

.

.

Frost fluttered beneath the black blade, shooting out behind in a turn as Yurio lined up his skate along the outer edge. Thin black fabric clung against his midsection, stuck by sweat. The first two tries still ached against his hip from the fall. Bruised bone twinging as his emerald eyes looked determined as he took off on his toe-pick. Air whizzed past him through the rotations. One. Two. Three…

_Splunk._

“Blyat!” Yurio cursed, teeth crunching as he spoke with his chin against the ice. Shivers enveloped him as he lifted himself up.

“Come back over, Yuri!” he heard Yakov holler out from the rink-side. Blonde hair swooped over his cheek, splaying out his locks as he whipped around. Ice shot out around as he planted his toe pick, crossing his arms defiantly as he kicked off to glide into another attempt at a lutz. _I’m not giving up. Victor is showing his short program today. I have to know if I can beat it. _Yuri thought, the breeze of his glide washing him over with cool air.

Yakov’s hand whapped into his forehead as he sighed, the red of his puffed coat quivering in the aftershock, “Not again…Yuri!” he said.

“Hah?” a soft voice question behind him. Grey wisps curled even more under his shudder, his glare winding down to see brown eyes looking up at him curiously.

“Not you, Yuri…that Yuri!” Yakov explained, throwing his arms out to the ice, his pudgy fingers pointing down to the rink floor and the clump of black fabric and barely peach skin underneath a blonde mop.

Silver fringe caught in the beady eyes before Yakov ever heard Victor’s voice, knowing the sound of his soothing laughter without ever having to turn backwards and see him standing there. “Haha, Yurio! What are you doing down there?” Victor quipped, his thin finger dragging the zipper of his black puffed coat. A grunt blew through Yakov’s nostrils, flaming with discouragement at Victor’s jeer.

“SHUT UP, ASSHOLE!” Yurio shot at them, slinking off to the opposite edge of the rink. Unthinking, his let his hip collide with the hard-white painted wood of the side, wincing as it hit the bruised spot beneath his black joggers. _I’m not fucking with Victor today. _He thought, swiping his black water bottle, popping the nipple with his teeth to suck in the drip. _It’s going to be my day!_

The rim of his blue eyes sparkled, the breath of afternoon exhaling sunshine even in the almost winter chill of Russia, lighting the eyes a clear ocean. Victor nodded in Yurio’s direction, leaning into Yakov. “What’s with that?” he whispered.

“He’s fighting, just like the rest of you, for Worlds.” Yakov said, his voice like old gravel under new tires.

His index finger rested against his lips, Victor’s gaze casting an anchor in Yurio’s direction. “With a lutz?”

“Da.” Yakov agreed, “But his body isn’t ready… Yuri stop trying the lutz! Don’t cry to me if you grow…”

Loud roars of laughter poked against the end of Yakov’s statement, as Victor bowled over, “Yakov! You never change! He just needs a little encouragem-“

“Oh, no! Not you!” Yakov yelled. Victor’s eyes crossed at the end of a thick finger, pointing straight into his nose, “You chose your Yuri! You don’t get to play pretend coach to mine!”

The distinguishable click-clacking of pointed heels echoed in the rink, overshadowing the sounds of sketching glass and thus of landed jumps. “Yuri Plisetsky!” a woman’s voice snapped sharply. Yurio perked to the sound, throwing himself to stand at attention; shoulders stiff and straight with eyes looking intently at the speaker.

“Lilia?” Yakov questioned. His response came in the slight curl of a lipstick stained lip, her jade eyes diverging to glance over before she scoffed.

“A bruised body is not beautiful. Clean up! Your footwork’s getting sloppy since nationals!” She barked, straightening Yurio’s spine with each snap of articulation. Her pinpoint chin arrowed down as she lifted her chin, displeased. “Is that the evolution you seek?”

Yurio’s spine felt like a board, and every word from Lilia a nail striking into him. “No!” he stated emphatically, pushing his shoulder length bangs to the side with a puff of air. “No, ma’am”

Lilia’s jade eyes narrowed, “Then start from the top!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Yuri nodded, twirling on black bladed edged to take position. _I’ll be champion at Euros. Victor won’t be the only one to sweep all the gold!_

Sharing acknowledging glances between Lilia and himself, Yakov grunted, satisfied with Yurio’s current place taking a Bielman spin instead of the ice from another failed lutz attempt. His current look of dissatisfaction now rested on Victor’s broad shoulders, “You’re supposed to be showing me your short program today, remember?”

“Da.” Victor said, his long fingers stretching over the rubber of the guards to peel them away, settling the pair on the ledge of the side softly. The edges of the soft black three-quarter inch sleeves revealing as Victor peeled out of his coat, folding it over on his forearm before extending it out to Yuri. Soft fingers nipped at the nylon puff, pulling it from Victor’s hold in exchange for the yellow paper pad with blue lines across it. Flaps of paper flicked backwards as Victor thumbed through, finding his expertly neat handwriting marking his page and handing it out to Yakov. “See? Everything’s here.” He said excitedly, pushing his bladed onto the ice.

Yakov looked over the bits of initialing on the paper, his eyes rushing downward with a fever, “Vitya, what do you think you’re…” He said, moving his eyes upward at the sound of a gasp. “Vitya!” he called, exhaling a sigh. Silver tresses of bangs fell over Victor’s eyes like a waterfall on a short ledge, the shine from the ice casting an iridescent glow as he tilted his head downward, arms folded in…ready to start.

“Yuri, music.” Victor instructed, his delicate hand motioning to the speaker on the side of the rink.

Cheeks reddening at the sight of Victor in starting show form, he stuttered, “H-Hai” Flustered, the aria costume cased phone jostled in his hand as he lurched forward, clasping tightly just before the fall. _Victor trusted me with his music. Music I got to hear before anyone else. _ Yuri thought, pushing his blue rims up along his nose. The morsels in memory of the song sounding in the cold night air crowded Yuri’s mind as he remembered the first night he heard Victor’s Storge song. All the glimmering swirls of Christmas lights on the snowy evergreens brought a smile too Yuri’s mouth. He held the phone in his grasp to his chest, over his heart.

White teeth chipped away in the grind of one another, Yurio gritting his teeth as a groan rolled under his tongue and through his clenched mouth. He eyes screened over the now statues of skaters still left stone in the rink, eyes all on Victor’s starting pose. Georgi moved to lean backwards against the rink wall, perching his elbows backward with a nod to Mila. The rest of the skaters seem to unfreeze on cue, shuffling to join near Georgi and Mila with a herd of scratching blades on ice. Black blades kicked a rise of ice behind him as Yurio slid to the opposite side of the rink, slumping against the rink wall with a mouth drawn in hate and eyes lit in anticipation.

Stepping the remaining few feet on his rubber guarded skates, Yuri thumbed the passcode into Victors phone, the music tune already pulled up into the display. The white box for pairable items appeared, and Yuri touched, _UblArenaYakov, _with the tip of an index finger. Then, with a nod, tapped _Play._

[https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=WVJdv-s9QWg&feature=share\](https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=WVJdv-s9QWg&feature=share%5C)

Aerith, Final Fantasy 2:50- 4:50

Nudging against the blue sleeve of his athletic shirt, Yuri gave a smile to back to seeing Mila’s happy go luck grin. Her curls bobbed as she looked back to the ice, watching Victor’s three turn mohawk as the wood instruments drug along the melody. Brown eyes cast back to the ice, watching the gold of Victor’s skate glide forward for the leap.

_Triple-axel, perfect, as usual. Victor never falls. His glide is effortless…and this performance… _Yuri thought. Watching the steps transition, pulling out and in as Victor’s hands liquidly wrapped around his form, invited but also pushing as fingers splayed forward, hands out. …_he’s magnetic. _

Victor heard the piano pecking at the notes, ethereal and longing. Yet, his mind also heard another song. His body displayed what his mind drudged forward, pulling memories out of dusted shackles and into the momentum of the movement.

.

_Deep and coaxing, strings of violins tuning into the bustling streets from the corner as Victor stepped out of the arena. He carried the weight of his duffel on his shoulder, shifting to remount the strap further up his shoulder. His ears caught the familiar tune as the string hit the high pitch crescendo._

_Once, Upon a December_

_Tucking the chest length strands of silver into the neck of his coat, Victor pulled up the hat, bits of the fur lining tickling his frost reddening cheeks. Blue eyes peered down the street corner, the neck of the violin barely held onto by the tiny slender hand of the person wielding it. Every passion-stricken note executed perfectly, enticing Victor to step closer and closer to the player. _

_Petite black mary-jane shoed feet swayed to the melody, back and forth with each stroke as the musician’s wine hued peacoat rounded to the notes, bits of a lilac skirt poking beneath the rim, stuck to the white tights. No doubt from the hours standing in the cold, strumming over and over again for the passersby. A small crowd amassed, whispering in hushed tones on the brilliance of the music. How could someone so young play so well? Must be a prodigy, a genius. _

_Victor heard all the accolades before, thinking on his past years in Juniors earning him similar praise. Snow crunched beneath his boot as he got closer to the violinist. Each note stronger and more enveloping the nearer he became. The red cracked fingers visible now as he stood behind, watching the bow stab almost into his gut. _

_He stumbled backwards, laughing his typical amused laugh. “[Someone will snatch you if you stay here much longer.] he teased._

_[Let them.] a small sweet stoic voice sounded on the downturn of the bow. _

_Fingers scratched at the tip of Victor’s scalp, perplexed by the cold voice belonging to such a beautiful player. [They’ll think you’re homeless. Put you in an orphanage. Or a zoo] he quipped again; belly full of laughter. _

_[Let them] the musician recanted, continuing to the ending notes of the song. _

_Victor grit his teeth, turning his head away with a whip. [You don’t mean that] _

_Grey lashes fluttered as Victor looked down over the top of the black flannelled cap on the musician’s head, finding a wet run of a tear against red flushed cheek. the person spoke in unison with the high note [Yes, I do.]._

_CRASH_

_Everything faded to black on the last notes circling_

_Once Upon a December_

_._

Yuri gazed out over every muscle fluctuation, twirl, mohawk, twist and kick as Victor’s music poured into the last bits of aerial flow. Gold blades kicked as he death dropped into a spiral, his usual glimmering blue eyes deep and pensive. _I thought this when I heard Victor’s music…but there’s something so sad in it. Lost. _

“I’ve never seen Victor skate like this.” Mila stated, head cocked as her eyes stayed on the spinning performer. “Do you know what he’s thinking?”

“It’s supposed to be storge.” Yuri explained, crossing his forearms to lean on the rink wall.

“Family love?” Mila wondered, her voice cracking at the word in wonder. “This is…”

“Lost love…” Georgi’s deep base voice chimed in, earning a startled glance from both Mila and Yuri before they cast heir eyes back on the ice, knowing.

Gold bladed skates circled, arms wrapping around his sides as Victor toe picked, eyes cast down as the music ended. With an exhale and a flip of his silver strands upward, Victor’s face glowed with delight, “So, what’d you think?” he asked joyfully, pushing off to slide to where everyone stood on the rink.

“Storge, huh?” Yakov shrugged, his voice lost somewhere in his throat, giving his tone a deep gurgle.

Ice flung, specs of white blur flying back down onto the rink floor with every swipe. Victor’s gloved hand swooped the last bits of white frost down until the gold glimmered against the light. “Da.”

The black iris in Yuri’s eyes circled almost as large as a cat’s eye, flickering over Yaakov’s visage to try and understand. His fedora shadowed the coach’s beady eyes, but his long exhale and head shake gave Yuri the indication that Yakov was less than pleased. _Victor’s program was…tough, complex, inviting…but also really, really…sad. _Yuri though, looking over to see Victor rise to his height, wiping the remaining ice dust off his black sweats. “What’s wrong with storge?” Yuri gasped at his question, his hands cupping his mouth with the shock of not intending the question to slink out of his mind and into his mouth.

“Nothing.” Yakov insisted, his large rough hands straightening the lapels of his black coat. “Unexpected for you, Vitya. I didn’t think you’d choose that. You think you can pull this off?”

“Do the unexpected, that’s my motto. Neh, Yuri?” Victor grinned, winking as he nudged Yuri’s side.

“Y-yeah.” Yuri replied sheepishly.

“There. That settles it.” Victor said emphatically. Lips gleaned from the shine of the ice as he nuzzled into Yuri, snaking his arms around his slender waist as he pressed those lips wet against the back of Yuri’s ear. “My Yuri thinks it’s a good program…”

Trying to contain his eyeroll, a deep sigh exhaled from the bottom of Yakov’s lungs, “You’re still going to have to tweak some of the elements…”

“Mmmhhm…” Victor purred, stealing another kiss on Yuri’s neck; soft, delicate, but lingering enough to draw a gasp from Yuri as his cheeks burned a new shade of red.

“You shouldn’t put that quad at the end. I keep telling you…” Yakov stared off into the rink as he spoke, ignoring the blur of silver and red swirling together into a pastel of kisses and flush. Exasperated, he threw his hands into the air, snapping, “Oh, will you just go on! It’s fine!”


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Fur whapped against Yuri’s cheek, the flap flailing in and out sending itchy prickles along his jawline. Thin fingers pawed at his face, Yuri trying desperately to free his face of the tickling texture as he scratched. Nails dragged against the bone of his cheek, out and back again. With a sigh of relief, he fell against the cream-colored dressing room door, yellowed by the hard light. The floor to ceiling mirror struck him with his own reflection, and he stared awestruck at the barely recognizable creature in front of him.

Barely recognizable- that is- because his thin, taut but rounded body hid beneath the sheath of winter apparel currently consuming him. Yuri’s black swooping hair poked out of the grey rounded flap hat, pulled flush against the top of his blue rimmed glasses. The tips of his fingers flexed as Yuri spied the only visible pale flesh, the rest of his arms and torso enveloped by a bulky- yet somehow form fitting lined coat. Radiant blue eyes caught the concerned brown as Victor appeared behind him, wrapping his arms around to tug at the opening of the thick black fabric, exposing the dark grey sheepskin beneath.

Silver fringe draped over to cover Victor’s eye as he leaned in to steal a quick kiss. The cuff of his shirt sleeve brushed against black hair as he reached his hand up to rub Yuri’s head atop the hat, swaying his entire body back and forth from the enthusiastic force. “You look so cute in your ushanka, Yu-ri!” he beamed, losing the sight of his eyes until all of Victor’s face was grey lashes and a heart shape smile.

Uneasy eyes deepened their browns until the shimmer only glistened downward to the floor, where Yuri stuck his gaze. The sheer of the white tile left an oval of reflection from the overhead light, casting yellow lines over the thick black boots that covered up to his ankle. Rubber soles squeaked as Yuri rubbed his left foot over his right, gazing back into the mirror at his ecstatic silver haired fiancé humming behind into his ears.

“Did we really need to come do this?” Yuri asked, his tone tainted in maudlin undertones. _ Ever since I saw Victor skate today, something pulled inside my heart... aching…What was Victor thinking during that performance?_

“I remembered we needed to get you more Russian winter appropriate clothing while I was skating.” He answered, placing a kiss against the small opening in Yuri’s back.

Brown brows quirked skeptically, “Why were you thinking about coats while skating?”

“I-ummm….” Victor lifted a finger in thought and in the same instant pulled the index down behind Yuri’s vision in the mirror’s reflection. A solitary second Yuri caught a deep cast of dark showy blue in the bottoms of Victor’s eyes, parting his usual clear seas. In a blink, grey lashes fluttered, and those blue hues transformed the shimmering clear day skies of excitement as Victor twirled his grey coat ends smacking at Yuri’s dark jean clad knees. With an outstretched arm and a gasp, Victor cooed, “Look, Yuri! There!”

A few blinks brought the dazed moment back to focus as Yuri squinted, trying to find the item Victor’s finger arrow referred to. He lined his eyes along Victor’s long, contoured arm, looked past from the line of dressing room doors to the show room of the boutique store whose name Yuri couldn’t hope to pronounce correctly. A younger girl and an older woman pushed clothing along the steel rack against the wall, the overhead lighting spelling the store’s name in tubed bulbs above. “What?” he asked, unsure.

“More hats! And scarves! I’ll buy you another one to match your other coat. We can get rid of that tan one now!” Victor beamed, the excitement pouring over until standing and pointing became grabbing fingers and dashing, his hand securely folded around Yuri’s. “You’ll need thermal underwear, too. Your body isn’t used to the wea…”

“Und-underwear! V-Victor, you really don’t need to!” Yuri tried to protest, his words falling deaf as he waddled behind Victor in the bulk of the winter wear.

Three hats, two scarves, a coat, and only one bargained pair of boots later, Yuri exhaled, thrusting the pile of clothing items on the counter with an exasperated whine. The posh white counter looked offset by the clutter of wool and fur heap on top. The clerk sneered at Yuri’s black hair clinging from the static as Victor lifted the grey flap hat, placing it as the precipice of the mountain.

“[And this, too!]” Victor said, tilting his head so the silvers strands splayed and fell as he winked at the clerk. Her stiff visage wobbled, melting beneath Victor’s grin with the bulging pink heart eyes customary for receiving the media coveted glance of Victor Nikiforov.

She kept her head down, nodding a smile in Yuri’s direction, “[Get stuck with a tourist?]” she asked, holding the scanner to the tag. Red lasers scanned, flashing with a beep at each black lined barcode against the white tag.

“[No, he’s mine.]” Victor answered, reaching his ringed hand to grab Yuri’s hand, threading them together. Pulling the held hands up to his lips, Victor pressed gingerly, the kiss pulling Yuri from his thoughts with a jerk. Brown eyes moved from the soft lips and tickling lashes on his finger to the pearl white register. The digital reader poked out of the top, reading, _21424.00. _

Yuri hitched a breath, heaving a gasp as his eyes widened, “Victor, how much is that?!?” he cried.

Victor shrugged with his free arm, his fingers on his other sinking into the tight pockets of his black jeans to pull out his wallet. “Less than you think. Rubles convert differently than yen….”

Fingers tapped with intent against the screen, palm covering the poodle characters on the blue case as Yuri scrolled through the browser. “That’s almost 40,000-yen, Victor!” Yuri yelped with a squeak.

The clerk dangled the plastic card between the two of them, catching Victor’s attention. Fingers pinched at the card, stowing it back away in his wallet as his brows creased in worry. “And?” he asked.

Cheeks rose hued from frustration, seeping deeper shades as Yuri’s anxiety heightened into a frantic ball of stammers. “I can’t….I have… You don’t need to….” He began, feeling the edge of lips being to press against him. Black strands swayed and Yuri shook his head, holding his hand out over Victor’s face, “No! That’s not going to work on me this time!”

Victor thrust his body up to full height, crossing his arms in a pout, “You paid for the…thing…at Ikea.”

“YOUPAIDFORTHEBOOKSHELVESVICTOR!” Yuri said, sheepishly turning away at the customers eyes darting in his direction from all over the small shop. “and the stuffed animals. And the plane ticket. And the food....”

“I’m used to paying for things myself.”

“Me too… at least when I’m not at home.” Yuri lamented, his head sinking further down over his baby blue sweater. _I know my family’s helped me when I needed it. And I never paid for anything living at home. But, I’ve always…_

“Yuri?” Victor said calmly, sweeping Yuri’s hands into his own and bringing them to his chest. The warmth of the body heated sweater warming Yuri’s fingers.

“What?”

“You are home.”

Lids covered and snapped, black lashes cradling in the crease of each blink as the words settled in. _With Victor, I’m home. _

Seeing the relief begin to wash over his fiancé as his words settled in, Victor spoke more firm, “But…I can think of a way you can repay me.”

“How?”

“Four. Continents. Gold.”

.

.

.

.

Sliding the assortment of now hung hats, scarves, and a ridiculously heavy fur lined coat on the metal rack, Yuri shut the door with a clack of the latch. Smoking ice burned in his lungs. The walk home in the twilight of St. Petersburg educated Yuri on the truth of why Victor insisted on heavier winter coats. Brown eyes sought for caricatures on the textured white spackled ceiling as he set his gaze upwards, his back resting against the not shut door as he breathed the last bit of fiery icicles from his chest.

_Shopping is always so tiring, even with Victor. _

Deflating to the floor, the edges of his sweater creeping up as his slipped further down the door, the skin on his back shivered against the cool door. Yuri let the tendrils of exhaustion settle on his eyes, weaving their tired looms through pressed black lashes. Clinking, clacking, the swish of gas and the flicker of flames echoed in the fishbowl of his drifting mind. Soft shuffles of socked feet swept somewhere in the close distance, moving in time with the pucker of a refrigerator door opening and closing. Sweet wafts of a familiar scent filled in through the nostrils with his rhythmic breathing. Slips of metal against metal and the chopping sounds beat against Yuri’s own heartbeat, reminding him of the sounds of a bustling Yutopia kitchen. A comfort, that tipped him over the edge to unconsciousness.

<https://youtu.be/ieQ1rAIjzXc?t=46> A swarm of flittering pecks of high-pitched girls chattering startled Yuri out of his torpor. Bouncing synthetic music bumped along to the vibrations in his jeans as he fumbled to reach for his phone._ “nanka daru nanka deru, aishiteru are ikko ga chigatterunruu, nayminbou koutetsubou, oishinbou ii kagen ni shinasai” _the girlish squeaks sang.

Baffled, Victor stepped from his slot behind the stove and turned around, watching the frail pale hands of his fiancé frantically shaking to put in his phone’s passcode. “Yuri, who are all these women on your phone?”

“N-n-nothing!!!! It’s a ringtone!” he said, typing in his code incorrectly for the fourth time while inwardly cursing Phichit for talking him into a musical ringtone in the first place. Cheeks melted red crayons from the heat and hue radiating off of him. “It’s… from an anime I used to watch with Yukko-san.”

Satisfied, silver hair swept as Victor turned, Yuri catching the flutter of strands as his eyes ran down from the back of his head to where Victor’s glutes lined his snugly fit black pants. _“motte ike! saigo ni waracchau no wa atashi no hazu, SEIRAA fuku da kara desu ←ketsuron, getsuyoubi na no ni!, kigen warui no dou suru yo? natsu fuku ga ii no desu ←kawaii”_ the phone continued to ring out. Shaking himself from the linger and the reside now left from where his tongue stuck out on parted lips, brown eyes delved downward, his thumb sliding to the green side of his phone.

“Akemashite-omedetou-gozaimasu!!!" a rapture of cheery voices hollered on the other end as Yuri pressed the rubber soles of his shoes down to springboard himself to full height.

Brown eyes glimmered, the deep richness swirling with every autumn hue until his eyes looked like a swirl of fall as he heard all the voices on the line. “Akemashite-omedetou-gozaimasu!” Yuri said with a giggle, kicking the heels of his shoes to step out of them.

The glint of a smile and sparkling eyes caught victor’s sidelines as Yuri walked into the kitchen area, leaning his head into the blue cased phone as he spoke words Victor didn’t understand. What little he picked up in his months in Hasetsu could not hope to decipher the rapid-fire Japanese Yuri spoke into the phone. “Who’s on the phone?” Victor asked above the crackling oil beneath him, tilting his head until his silver bangs tipped onto his shoulder.

“It’s mom and the rest of the family…Oh, hold on!” Yuri spoke in English, though Victor wasn’t entirely sure whether or not to him. 

_Did Yuri just call his mom…my mom? _Victor thought, pinching the black dial on the edge of the stovetop to on. Blue flames erupted from under the top, scorching the metal pan underneath. A purplish-red opaque liquid sloshed as Victor latched onto the handle, peering down to inspect the rise of the flames.

“[I’m going to put you on speaker.]” Yuri spoke into the speaker, pulling the phone from his ear and hitting a button on the screen. “Ok, now you can talk to Victor.”

Blue eyes perked, their hue shimmering like the sun overseas, as he listened to the crackle of the speaker. “Vicchan! Akemashite-omedetou-gozaimasu!” called a light and warm voice. Victor smiled, quirking a confused grey brow to Yuri.

“It means Happy New Year’s.” Yuri explained, finally situating himself on the chair.

“Oh! Haiiiii! Happy New Year!!!” Victor hollered over the sound of his whisking, trying to be audible.

“How is Russia?” the jovial bubbles of Hiroko’s voice sent a pang to Yuri’s chest.

“Oh, umm…it’s good! Right, Victor?”

“Yes! It’s perfect!”

“I’m sorry I haven’t called…” Yuri’s voice trailed off, caught in the confines of guilt as he wrapped his arms over the counter.

“It’s okay! Okay! All good!” his mom said in her usual carefree tone.

“Have you been treating Victor right, Yuri?” Minako’s voice sounded more like a scolding than an outright question in tone as she cut through the line, though there was an audible slosh in her tone from one too many drinks.

“Yuri treats me best!” Victor said, his voice low but playful, giving a wink at the end.

“V-Victor! N-no it’s not…” his arms waved in front almost involuntary just like the night at Barcelona when Phichit.

“Yuri!” Minako screeched.

Black hair sprung forward as Yuri buried his head into his resting arms… “I’m going to die….”

“Yuri, we’re all really happy for you.” Yukko’s soft, knowing voice soothed the rising angst and clamor of triplets in the background asking a barrage of questions in Japanese so fast Yuri barely understood. “We miss both of you.”

The pang from hearing his mother’s voice for the first time hit again as Yuri lifted his head, resetting his glasses on his face. “We miss you all, too.” He said, blearily.

A few more passages in Japanese were spoken back and forth, Victor trying to sparse the pieces of language he knew to be “good luck” and “goodbye” as he pulled the simmering steaming pot off the stove. Billows of clouded steam rolled from the top, aligning with the sizzling sounds beneath the tufts as Victor’s pale arm turned the skillet. A whine came from the side as he spied Makkachin whimpering at the edge of the island, his brown curls reflecting in the metal shine.

“No rice for you, Makkachin!” Victor mused, tipping the contents of the pan to spill into the sticky white sticky bits. Soft fingers wiped against the edge of a rough white kitchen towel as Victor cleaned off himself. He watched Yuri’s detached gaze on the outside wall of the hallway as he scooped up the two-ceramic bowls, placing one in front of Yuri with a clink. “Here.”

The tip of the clink of ceramic hitting metal jolted Yuri’s wavering mind to behold what lay in the bowl in front of him. Black brows lifted in surprise as the sweet and savory undertones of scent hit him with the realization, “Katsudon?!?” he asked, his fingers latching onto the fork inside the bowl with curiosity.

“Yes, we’ve been busy this week.” Victor chirped, his blue eyes brimming with excitement to have Yuri taste the dish. He brought himself, bowl in hand, to sit alongside Yuri, his torso swaying back and forth as he breathed in the aroma. “We never did have your gold medal meal!”

“When did you learn to make it?” Yuri asked, idly playing with the silver fork between the crusted pork loin.

“You didn’t think I would learn how to make my Yuri’s favorite dish!” Victor pouted.

“No, no! That’s not it…it’s just…I thought I’d make it….” Yuri stuttered, feeling the press of a kiss on his burning cheek.

“It’s a fairly simple dish to make. How is it?” Victor said, starting to dip his fork into the bowl.

Silver stuck into the pork as Yuri lifted the first bite to his mouth, moaning a sin from the bite. “It’s really good. Almost like Mom’s!”

“Mom’s?” Victor punctuated, punching his tongue to the back of his teeth in enunciation, like he was trying to speak a language not known.

“MMM!” Yuri hummed, his cheeks stuffed and puffing round. “She’ll be your mom, too! I think she might have thought she always was…” Yuri trailed off, catching an uneasy breeze as something flickered in Victor’s eyes, stern and twitching the eyelids with the thought.

Words, pictures, sounds, Russian words never needed to be said, flashing lights blinding the thoughts singing in the aerial tune of Storge.

_ “…You and YOUR SON can stay here!”_

_“LET ME GO! Victor….VICTOR!!!!!!”_

“Victor?” sweeping pale hands waved over Victor’s hands, bringing him to the present as his eyes caught deep mahogany eyes looking at him concerned. “Is something wrong?”

Crisp bursts of resolution exploded in the blue eyes, gray lashes fluttering as Victor’s mouth drew into a grin. He leaned forward, placing his firm hand gingerly on Yuri thigh, running along the jean seam as he closed the gap between the two. “I’m just hungry, that’s all.”

“W-well, your katsudon is right there.” Yuri stated, lifting his bowl in gesture to the orphaned one in front of Victor. 

“I don’t want to eat that Katsudon. I want to eat this Katsudon.” Victor cooed, his eyes half-lidded and wanting as his free hand ran deftly down Yuri’s arm, catching prickling hairs in the after-touch.

“Huh?”

“I bet you taste delicious…” Victor purred, his voice low and saturated with innuendo dancing on each word.

“WHAT!?” Yuri squeaked, the fork clinking as it hit the edge to the bowl as Yuri dropped it.

“My little katsudon…” Victor said, letting his hand rest high on Yuri’s thigh as his other came from arm to hold tenderly on his cheek, before pulling the bowl out of Yuri’s hand and placing it on the metal counter beside them. “_Ty razbudil vo mne davno zabytoye.” _(You have awoken something long forgotten inside of me.)

The Russian phrase was meaningless in words alone, but the deep drawl rolling on Victor’s tongue as he spoke those words ignited every particle inside Yuri. Without warning, Victor’s lips smashed into his, hands coming up to cradle in head as fingers slid between black tufts. Yuri gasped a hitched breath into the kiss, the fire of the words flaming passion in his gut as he returned the force, trying to catch up to the sudden shift from dinner to desire. In one swift motion, Victor stood in the space of Yuri’s parted legs, wrapping his arms behind to hoist Yuri out of the seat. The white sweater flew up in the lift, the air brushing Yuri’s bangs backwards as his legs slung around Victor’s waist, the silhouette of a stiff arousal already pushing into Yuri’s thigh as Victor began the walk down the hallway.

In his eyes Yuri saw hunger, thirst; the oceans dried up and refilled, but nothing satiated in those deep blue pools. All the times throughout the week since his birthday Victor had been practiced, careful, delicate with Yuri, edging in and backing off until Yuri found himself grounded in the pleasure, sure of himself. This Victor was raw and uncalculated, desperate.

************************************************************************************

Teeth clacked against teeth as the sweet tang of katsudon invited itself into the slide between tongues. Tilted heads turned and readjusted as Victor finagled the door knob to the bedroom, cupping the underside of Yuri to teeter on his other forearm. Between the kitchen and the bedroom, the deep fiery embers in Yuri’s brown eyes started burning red. Yuri’s socked feet touched the wood floors with a soft thud as Victor relinquished him, keeping his lips centered over Yuri’s, dragging kisses like breath in a dying man, long and rasping.

His mouth now ripe from the month of planting and nourishing kisses from Victor, Yuri plunged back in, deep and longing into Victor’s erratic pull. Hands traveled from shoulders to the hem of Yuri’s sweater, seeking skin as an antidote for longing. A shiver tingled down Yuri’s spine as those cool hands found their sanctuary beneath Yuri’s sweater.

Knees knocking into knees as Victor walked them backwards, inching their way to the bed. He pulled away in a huffed laugh, slipping his arms up underneath to lift the sweater. Yuri obliged, raising his arms to feel the chill as the item was torn away and discarded. Heart thumping in bounds, Yuri’s still trembling hands pawed at the hem of Victor’s shirt, trying to pull up the edges.

This dichotomy, to be filled with lust and unsure of it all at once; Victor cherished it in Yuri. Pulling Eros from him maintained as an award no shelf could hold. Feeling Eros on the quaking, hot, beginning to sweat skin was a prize only Victor would ever be awarded, and he knew the depth of that joy. Larger hands held over Yuri’s delicate finger, helping to peel Victor from the sweater.

For a moment, the feverish liaison composed to a soft lingering kiss on Yuri’s lips, fingers stroking down his black threads as a thumb circled his face. “_Vy prosto obvorozhitel'ny.”_ Victor breathed deeply, trailed deep wet kisses down Yuri’s jaw and neck.

“NNngh…. I don’t know what you’re saying…but…” Yuri said breathily, hitching a breath as he felt the cold steel of the mattress frame against his calves. With a jerk, he plopped onto the bed, his black hair fluffing in the fall.

Blue eyes steadied their piercing gaze, looking down from Victor’s height onto Yuri’s seated position with adoration, love. He ran his hand once more over the coarse threads of hair, down the soft rounded cheek, neck, finally stopping to cup Yuri’s delicate shoulder. “You’re beautiful.” Victor translated, his voice sweet and soft.

“Oh, umm…t-thank you.” Yuri stammered, the blush searing into his cheek with what Yuri was sure would be a permanent hue.

_No, I will never tire of seeing his face like this. _Victor thought, bending his knee to bend, his black pants scuffing against the wood floor. “You like it? When I speak in Russian?” he asked, returning his lips to wanders along Yuri’s neckline, earning a gasp as his teeth nipped at the nape of the neck.

“Mmmnn…y-y-yes…” Yuri answered, granting Victor more access with a tilt of his head. Every kiss shocked and electrified Yuri’s being, shivers and jolts running rampant on his skin. His gripped the white pillow comforter on either side, trying to hold himself up against the sensation.

Victor lifted up, turning to look back into the brown eyes with his blue flickering in the bits of moonlight filtering in from the window, “Prityagatel'noy sile tvoikh bezdonnykh glaz slozhno soprotivlyat'sya!” (The strength of attraction in your bottomless eyes is difficult to resist!) he said, feeling a twitch against his knee as Yuri shuddered at the word.

Yuri’s fingers felt the silk silver hair, running through his hands down Victor’s head. He reached forward, splaying his fingers on the cool flesh of the back of Victor’s neck and the tip of his back, reaching as far as he could as he melted under the wet heat of Victor’s tongue descending down his chest. Yuri hissed as the wetness encircled the pink nubs on his chest, swelling a deeper shade and plump as Victor sucked, dragging rough taste buds over the sensitive bumps.

_We’ve never sat in the bed like this. I wonder why Victor is on his knees? _Yuri thought, listlessly throwing his head back and closing his eyes as Victor’s tongue traced down his chest, dipping past his navel to the brim of his pants. His chest heaved in and out, meeting the involuntary twitch beneath the zipper as his inside stirred deeply, flashing the sensation of wet heat and his arousal together.

His jeans were tight, too tight. The fluttering like drinking a thousand champagne flutes swirled in his gut, everything about Yuri was suffocating beneath the denim as Victor’s tongue rimmed the edge of his jeans, teasing to linger at the button while he kneaded his hands up Yuri’s thighs.

“V-Vic-tor” Yuri spoked through mewls and gasps, his head still dipped back and lost to the feeling.

Gasping from the unexpected, Yuri faded into a deep kiss as Victor suddenly grabbed his head and pulled their mouths together. Tongues rooted through the trenches, swiveling together in the restart of the carnality Victor began with. Rough pulls and grips drove Yuri forward, sparking at every grab Victor gave from shoulder to waist, dragging Yuri closer until their chests were flesh on flesh.

Yuri startled, feeling the unexpected grab at his arousal on top of his jeans. Three fingers worked over the confined but still tender flesh, feeling over the circular head squished into Yuri’s thigh. He hitched a hiccupped gasp against Victor’s face, earning a satisfied grin.

_“Mne nravitsya chuvstvovat' tvoyo dykhaniye na moyey shcheke.”_ (I like feeling your breath on my cheek.) Victor cooed, his lips speaking love notes into Yuri’s ear he couldn’t hope to comprehend, but the pleasure from Victor’s Russian accent spurred him on just the same.

Pleading breaths dripped from Yuri’s chest as he felt Victor’s hand leave his center, fingers treading over his sides and around his back. Dipping low and searching, Victors hands pushed beneath the blue denim and black elastic to grab at the round soft flesh of Yuri’s backside while his mouth occupied Yuri’s with kisses. Squeezing, pulling, grasping hands grabbed at the soft bouncy flesh. Yuri’ arched his back, panting into the kisses at the sensation of Victor’s hands warm against his backside.

Greed bled blue in Victor’s eyes as his hands pulled out, grabbing at the copper button on Yuri’s jeans to pop it free, not missing a beat to unzip feverishly. Feeling the yank on his beltloops, Yuri lifted, expelling a relieving sigh as both his jeans and briefs were tugged off onto his thighs.

Slick wet beads dribbled over Victor’s fingers as he wrapped his hand whole, feeling the stiff twitch under the friction of his hands gliding from length to tip. He heard his name escape between Yuri’s ragged breath, the length swelling between his cupped fingers. Victor planted a whisper in a kiss on Yuri’s lips, running his tongue along Yuri’s bottom lip as he moved to pepper kisses from flushed cheek to flushed chest, this time with purpose more than teasing. He dipped back to the navel, shifting behind himself on his knees to grand more room as he kissed the insides of Yuri’s thigh. Hiding the snicker of a laugh between Yuri’s legs as he heard a whimper as he removed his grasp around Yuri’s throbbing center, he pressed a wet kiss on each side of Yuri’s hipbones, watching the twitch earned in return.

Brown eyes peeked, finally seeing Victor between his thighs, and went wide. “V-Victor…you don’t have to…” he stammered in futility. Wet heat of Victor’s tongue flicking the top of his arousal put every part of what English meant or anything translated to far from the reaches of his mind. _“Namete hoshii!”_ (Lick it!) Yuri mewled, his breath panting shallow and unrhythmically as Victor’s lips wrapped around the head, his tongue dragging along the top as he hummed amusedly at Yuri’s inability to speak.

The lids of Yuri’s eyes shut, clenching black lashes as his mind only saw shades of red desire flashing and bursting to every lick and suck. His arms gave out and Yuri fell into the covers, a puff of cool air blowing in Victor’s face as he continued. Victor felt the shivers over Yuri’s frame as his tongue dragged from base to tip, his fingers deftly holding upright as his mouth bobbed up and down.

Victor pulled up for a moment, studying the washed glow of bliss over Yuri’s face. “Do you like it?” he asked earnestly, keeping his hand stroking as he listened for an answer.

_“Kimochi ii…”_ (it feels good) was all Yuri could say between heaves, lost in the pleasure blinding everything around him.

Taking the relaxed and desperate tone as meaning good, Victor tipped forward, swallowing Yuri whole and holding for a moment. Silver feathers tickled at the top of Yuri’s thigh with every bob, granting Victor a moan of his own name loud and clear from Yuri’s lips.

_Victor…Victor Nikiforov… is suc…is going…is on my…with his mouth. _Yuri’s incoherent thoughts surfaced through every bob, sending pulses of pleasure throughout his entire nervous system. Each lick drove him forward, every suck brought him closer and closer to the edge as his body trembled and jolted under the sensations. Toes curled and flexed with every new turn and twist of his mouth.

The rhythm drove Yuri beyond comprehension, his hands clinching the blanket with white knuckles, his breathing wild and unbinding. A feeling of a thousand bombs annihilating his mind and senses but enveloping him in pleasure all in one. Victor shifted to hold in his other hands, his free fingers working beneath the flitter his fingers gently against the tender bits of flesh beneath the shaft.

Building bursts in his gut, Yuri arched his back, maddened with the sensation as his body went into overdrive. Victor felt the stiffened muscles of Yuri’s thighs clenching together, his body writhing to a climax. He bared down, moving up and down rapidly to feel the release.

_“Ikisou! Ikisou!” _Yuri shouted through clenched teeth, though Victor didn’t need a translation. Liquid poured into the back of Victor’s throat, coating it with the warm stickiness, every jolt shooting from Yuri’s center as he kept his steady bob through the pulses.

Victor huffed a satisfied laugh, rising back up to his full height. Silver fringe fell to the side as Victor surveyed the spent figure in front of him, still twitching every few seconds from the jolts. “Did it feel good?” Victor asked, wiping the sides of his mouth with his thumbs.

Glimmering brown eyes looked down from where Yuri laid, still tingling, on the mattress. He lifted his head, watching Victor’s skin glow against the moonlight. Nothing of the many adjectives of praise translated in his still muddy mind, “Uh-uhuh.” He nodded.

Smiling wide and excited, Victor leaned to give one more squeeze to Yuri’s thigh as he began to turn. His fingers were caught, interlace in the delicate hand as Yuri’s pale fingers gripped, using the hand to pull to sitting up. “Victor…what…about…” his eyes softened as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Yuri…You don’t need-“Victor tried, stopped by a deliberate tug at he beltloop pushing him forward. He winced as his shin hit the bedframe but halted at the look hidden in Yuri’s eyes. It said only one thing…

_Don’t take your eyes off me. _

Yuri pawed at the belt buckle, unlatching to quickly pull it through, handing it to Victor to toss to the floor. The red dripped in the depth of Yuri’s brown eyes as he looked up, fingers working to pop the button of Victor’s pants free. His fingers awkwardly grabbed the zipper, fumbling to tug past the obvious hardness contained in the pants.

Victor drank in Yuri’s eyes as they looked up at him from where he sat on the edge of the bed, unbidden, resolved, still slightly afraid…but determined. It was a cocktail headier than anything Victor ever saw before watching Yuri drag his pants and bikini briefs down, unsure and excited as they lay at the crest of his hipbone, just enough to expose the sensitive arousal beneath.

The stiffness sprung out twitching as Yuri grabbed it, his breath caught in his throat with surprise. His first time eye to eye, where throughout the past week it had been his or Victor’s hands, or both and the friction between them. He had felt what Victor did, watched for a minute second before he was seized in pleasure, his lower body still tingling as he sat. Looking up, brown eyes meeting the expectant, excited blue, Yuri leaned forward pressing his tongue gently to the tip.

_“Oiiki!”_ he said, mostly to himself in the freedom of his native language, tasting the salty flesh as it twitched under the sensation of his the buds of his tongue.

“Ty moy ray.” (You are my paradise.) Victor said in return, not knowing what Yuri said but feeling the sentiment anyways. His fingers threaded through black strings of hair, hissing as he felt Yuri’s mouth wrap wholly around the head. Yuri sought Victor’s eyes for approval as he leaned in to bob the way Victor had done to him. Without thinking Victor rolled his hips into the motion, earning a hum to vibrate against his now swelling arousal as Yuri’s hands settled on the top of either thigh.

Shifting pumps and soft drags, Victor worked with Yuri to show the different angles and motions as he pulsed into the wetness of his mouth. Each suck felt like a different island, soaked in the divinity of the sight of Yuri’s mouth bobbing over his center, picking up skill with practiced guidance. Watching Yuri’s black hair sway, his eyelashes flutter, the softness of his cheeks and mouth taking as many inches as he could before tears leaked from his eyes stirred something deep and ravenous inside Victor, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

He helped Yuri’s hand move to the rhythm of his mouth, back and forth, up and down the stiff, slick arousal. The pace quickened as Yuri gained confidence, pushing Victor over into climax.

“Yuuuuuuri…I’m…going to…” he broke through panted breaths, crooning his neck upwards as he tried to push away. Brown eyes remained constant as Yuri choked a breath letting his determined fingers clamped onto the warm flesh of Victor’s sides. All of Victor’s muscles stiffened in the tipping, blue eyes watching Yuri’s puckered lips bob as he breathed in barring himself for the intake.

_If Victor did it, I can do it. I- I want to do it. _

_Yuri is always surprising me. _Victor thought, pulling his now softening center from Yuri’s mouth inch by inch as his gaze settled on the gulps travel down Yuri’s Adam’s apple from the last remains of the climax. He placed a kiss on Yuri’s forehead, nuzzling the top of his head as he listened to Yuri regain his breaths.

“Are you alright?” Victor asked, straining his eyes in the darkness to find any bit of regret.

“Yes, yes. I…” Yuri’s still recouping breaths quaked under the weight of how to convey how he felt. His eyes dragged the length of Victor’s upright position, stilling himself on his pale sculpted thighs, the deep V arrowing the entryway to what he could still hear Victor purring his name. Still, the idea of Eros in his mind, Eros in action, and talking about the Eros all played in notes that Yuri couldn’t yet harmonize without the instrument of booze to intercede. Sheepishly, he dipped his head low the determination of seduction fully faded into a nervousness casting pink on his cheek, “…like it”

Kicking off the rest of his pants, Victor climbed over top of Yuri to his side of the bed, seeking fingers to drag Yuri against his chest. Black tresses tickled against his sweat stuck skin, Yuri’s eyes closing as his body relaxed to the feeling of Victor’s arms around him, and the heartbeat beneath.

The bliss of the climax still fizzing in his mind, Victor stroked Yuri’s hair, watching him drift into a content sleep. “Dusha moya.” Victor whispered.

_(My soul.)_


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of update everyone! It's been a little chaotic, but I should be back to two a week.   
(Thanks MidoriandMilk for the idea for the beginning of this Chapter 😊)

Rustling legs against covers, the sound of skin skidding along soft sheen fabric, broke the morning sleep into the morning wake. Legs drew into legs behind, the dew of trickling saliva from Yuri’s dreaming open mouth stuck under his cheek and pooled at Victor’s forearm. For almost a month, Yuri neglected the soft foam pillows above his head for use of Victor’s arm, chest, back and sometimes waist, depending on the movement of sleep. Even those few days is Hasetsu, no matter the time of night, when one moved, the other followed. They sought each other.

The tickle of his own coarse black strands smushed under his nose from the weight of Victor’s head on top of Yuri’s woke him. His nostrils twitched back and forth. The bridge of his button nose wiggling trying with every might to prevent the impending sneeze. But the peppered itch won, and he wretched a hearty sneeze, his body thrusting out of the warmth of Victor’s clinging body and upright with irritation.

Hair swayed as he shook out the nerves still fluttering from the sneeze. Bleary brown eyes forced open now begrudgingly sought to focus the room, reaching out towards the side table for the cool metal of his frames. The last remaining fumes from last night’s display of passion still lingered in the bed, kicking up memories from the barely settled dust of Yuri’s mind.

In the solace of being the first awake, Yuri pressed his fingers, feeling the bottom ledge of his pout. _I still feel…what he feels like…in my mo-_

_CRRRASSSHHH!_

Before the thoughts of last night could fully be realized in Yuri’s mouth, a clanking crash sounded beyond the door, a hollow spiral of ceramic echoing softly in the distance. Behind him, Victor jerked with a start, silver tendrils floating almost above his scalp as he flung forward, his wide eyes catching blue in the trickle of light.

“Yuri?!?” Victor asked, launching his hand to clasp of Yuri’s thigh. He spun him around, searching for any mark or scar.

Breathing in Victor’s warm breath, Yuri shivered, “It wasn’t me. I’m…I’m fine… it was outside the door…”

Wind rushed over Yuri, chilling his bare chest as Victor leaped over him. The pale naked blur fuzzed white in Yuri’s out of focus eyes as Victor swung the open door.

“Victor! What’re you doing going out there! You’re naked!” Yuri spat, finally seeing through his rimmed glasses as at a starkly bare back and legs. Seeing the long, muscular legs still lurching forward from the slit of what remained of the open door on its fallback into the frame, Yuri untangled himself from the bed. Hoisting the king size comforter over his also still naked frame, the puff of air falling around his shoulders in the fall, he rushed through the door.

As his feet hit the floor to the hall, Yuri started to feel granular bits beneath his toes. He stepped aside, following the trail of minute white pellets, then specks of yellow, and finally a large crusted piece of pork. His gaze turned upward, hearing the playful growl and finding Victor, completely naked, wrestling an upturned bowl out of Makkachin’s mouth.

“I told you no rice, Makkachin!” Victor chided, though his laugh under his breath left the actual scolding flat. Finally freeing the bowl, Victor flipped on his back, falling in the midst of scrambled egg and rice strewn over the floor. Brown curls of fur shook, more flecks of food flying out of Makkachin as he shook.

Yuri peered overtop Victor, his hand covering his face in a futile effort to conceal his snicker. “We forgot the katsudon?”

“We forgot the katsudon.”

.

Clouds of suds floated in the air, puffed foamy white and popping in the snap of a snout. “Makkachin…come…on…now,” Victor’s usual serene drawl was strained in frustration as he placed either hand into the wet brown fur, pushing outward to move the dog underneath. Specks of rice littered the white porcelain tub, still tumbling off the rich brown curls with every squish of fur. “You still have rice under there! Let me…” he attempted to coax. The spray of the shower procured beneath Victor’s arm twists in the attempt, shooting water into his face. “Ahhhhk!” Victor yelled, gurgling against the pressure of warm water spurting into his mouth, catching the spewing spicket in the fall.

Giggles echoed, reverberating from the tile, stifling the whaps of fur from Makkachin’s shake. The laughter loudened. Victor’s eye darted up, still blinking droplets of water from between his almost translucent lashed. “Are you laughing at me?” he asked, spotting Yuri leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his black shirt to cover the dampness.

“Mhm!” Yuri nodded, his lips peaked up in a grin.

“Oh, really?” Silver strands fell as Victor tilted his head to emphasize the question. Safe behind the fortress of fur, long pale fingers curled firmer around the handle of the shower nozzle.

Yuri’s eyes widened in his effort to keep a straight face, his cheeks puffed to the brim containing the want of laughter. Black strands fell to frame either side of his eyes as he nodded once more, air whistling through his lips. One nod, then two, but by the third Yuri could no longer contain the sight of watching Victor’s strained attempt to keep Makkachin in the tubs. Fits of hysterics softly filtered, rippling from Yuri’s flat stomach up his chest and heaving shoulders as he burst from the seams in laughter. “The…dishes…are…done!” he said through rolls of tittering chuckles. 

Without hesitation, Victor pulled the stream of water out from the wall of poodle fur, set on the massage level to shoot right into Yuri’s torso. “AAAAHHH!! Victor! What are you doing?!?” Yuri cried, tilting his body to avoid the second barrage of water spewing out towards his shoulder.

“You don’t want to be wet? Do you?” Victor’s voice lowered into a deep husk as he lowered his head, eyebrows raised. Lips curl into a mischievous grin as Victor backs up, leaving the shower head to smack against the porcelain. With a thrust, Victor lunge out of the bathtub, legs sprawled like a pole-vaulter. Puddles of water kick up under his feet as Victor dashes headfirst and arms out into Yuri.

Sopping wet white shirt and black swim trunks, cling against Yuri’s shirt and shorts as Victor engulfs him in a soaking embrace. Feet give away to feet in the rush, Victor toppling over Yuri with shouts of protests and laughter.

“No! HAHA! No! Victor get off of me!” Yuri whined, his head shaking furiously back and forth.

Hands slicked over the wetness as Victor sought for skin Yuri’s torso, earning him the sound of those giggles he heard earlier. A laughter like a dog’s tongue licking cheeks erupted from Yuri as he wiggled beneath Victor’s fingers tickled over his ribcage. “Victoooorrr!” Yuri laughed, “You’re tickling me!”

“Mhhm!” Victor nodded, a smirk as wry as the devil itself formed on the side of his mouth. “My Yuri’s ticklish!!!!!” he cooed excitedly, squishing his fingers on Yuri’s stomach as Yuri grizzled in laughter. Black tendrils smushed into the crevices of the wood flooring as Yuri leaned his head backward, his thin neck crooning with each giggle. Victor’s eyes brightened at the sight, peppering kisses on Yuri’s neck as his fingers continued drawing laughs from Yuri’s belly.

Wet smacks of kisses and chuckles sang loudly in the typically quiet apartment. Louder than the whines of an impatient poodle. Louder still than the woosh of water splashing, or the drop of soaked pause. Nothing drowned out the play between Victor’s antics and Yuri’s play until a drenched poodle barreled between them. Tail wagging along in the excitement, Makkachin tumbled over Victor, pushing him until his wet t shirt hit the wood floor with a thwump.

Blue eyes turned to meet brown, greeted with the warmth of a happy smile between heaved of breath. Makkachin laid over top of both, panting; satisfied.

.

.

.

.

The chill of the skating arena in Russia felt colder than Hasetsu. Somehow, the artic north bored ice into Yuri’s bones, and he tried futily to wrap his jacket further around his self. Fingers gripped on either side, sinking into the cerulean blue stripes running down either of his arms as he held through the shiver. The shake lessened as arms wrapped around him, securing him in the warmth of the black puffed coat.

“Cold?” Victor asked, leaning his head on Yuri’s shoulder. Blades scratched beneath them as Victor lead them forward, circling around a cluster of children.

“Mhm….it-it’s b-been almost a m-month and I st-stil c-an’t stay warm.” Yuri stuttered, enveloping the frozen tips of his fingers into Victor’s.

Lips pressed lightly against Yuri’s neck as Victor closed his eyes in thought, speaking softly, “Mmmmm…. Russia’s only going to get colder. Have any ideas on how I can warm you up?”

“Victor!” Yuri balked. The heat from Yuri’s face warmed the tip of Victor’s nose as he nuzzled into Yuri’s side.

“Victor.” This time his name was not a plea of surprise and embarrassment but a stern unaffecting growl. Silver fringe flipped in the air as Victor whipped his head back his eyes finding the same grave stoicism of Yakov giving him the one stagnant warning before the pot boiled over. The light gleaned off Yakov’s head as he shook it furiously, “Victor! Quit messing with Katsuki and do your job! Your time’s almost up.”

Air blew against Yuri’s cheek as Victor sighed, releasing his arms as he placed a kiss on Yuri’s forehead in the break. “Right. I’m changing the sequence of my Freeskate…” he began, gliding over to the rink to fumble with his yellow sketch pad. He thumbed through the papers, pulling over plan after scratched off plan until his finger rested on the neatly written initials on the left side of the page.

“You’re changing it again? Didn’t I tell you to have it finished by now?” Yakov asked, raising a brow in disbelief.

Victor’s long thin index ran past the blue ink, down to the halfway mark, “See, here. I think it would be better with a three turn.” He stated, ignoring the questions as he lifted his index to his lips, pondering.

“It’d be better if you left is as I told you to.” Yakov huffed, his shoulders swishing in the fabric of his red coat.

_Three turn it is! _Victor thought, smiling to himself as he crossed the initials out and wrote in the new. He avoided the obvious eyeroll directed at him, choosing to move his blue eyes onto the ice where Yuri wound through some of the Eros moves. Victor smiled as he watched Yuri twists his arms over himself and down. _Yuri made Eros his own. Every time we get closer physically, his Eros changes a little. I wonder what it will be when we…_

“Vitya.” Yakov’s deep rasp startled him from his thoughts. Victor turned with a jerk to see Yakov nod to someone on the other end of the phone held to his ear. “Some of the RSF are in one of the conference rooms asking for you.”

“Oh. Okay?” Victor said, bafflement wearing over his face as he turned back to the ice, “Let me just find…”

“He’s fine!” Yakov waved out, his voice steady even if his eyes shifted from Victor out to Yuri. “They just want the two of us.”

“Oh.”

.

The clinically bare white walls, beige carpet, long table aligned with desk chairs seemed suffocating to Victor as he entered the conference room. His smile wore wax, plastered on in confidence. The glint in his eyes dimmed, the blue fading as he looked over the two middle aged men before him.

[Please, sit down Mr. Feltsman. Mr. Nikiforov.] one said in Russian, raising his long lanky hand to gesture to the seats.

[Something the matter?] Yakov’s stern tone teetered on annoyed, his coat puffing as he plopped into the black desk char. Victor followed.

[No, not at all! We’re- just here on behalf of Mr. Gorshkov and Mr. Kogan.] the other said, huffing a laugh.

[Alright? What do Mr. Gorshkov and Mr. Kogan want with Victor?] Yakov asked, his grey brows furrowed.

The two representatives exchanged glances, presumably seeking on how to proceed. The larger one straightened his jet-black tie, flattening it against his white button up, then smoothing his short brunette hair on the sides. [ There’s nothing the RSF wants, per se. We’re just…well, our sponsors…] he began to stutter.

Blue eyes squinted as Victor stiffened in his seat. [What about sponsors?] he asked, his plastic grin continuing to paint a lax state of being. [My sponsors are...]

[No, No! That’s not what we mean] the other man said, beads of sweat visible on the neckline of his suit. [It’s just... there’s a company considering investing a substantial bit of money into the RSF and… he…they requested to see you skate. Again.]

[The company is interested in you, the most, Victor. They’re concerned though. That you’re…not focused.] the taller man finished.

[They just want to see you skate, again. That’s all. Hell, everyone does!] the shorter representative said, his fingers pawing at his thick neck.

Victor’s chest heaved as he drew a long sigh, placing his hands to cup the table in front of him. [I see. Everyone should be very happy to see me perform in Worlds, then.]

[That’s not soon enough!] the man’s thick neck seized as he spoke.

[What my colleague means to say, is that the RSF wants to offer you a spot in Euros…] the other covered.

[The European Championship?!? That’s two days away!] Yakov barked [My skaters are already chosen for that!]

The two exchanged looks again, the sound of the taller’s gulp audible in the room. [Yes- well, with Victor’s track record at Euros…we felt maybe Georgi might not…]

Yakov Bristled, the under curl of his grey hair fraying in anger. [Enough! Georgi’s been training just as hard and earned his spot!]

[Yakov’s right. I don’t feel comfortable taking another teammate’s spot I didn’t earn. You understand?] Victor said matter-of-factly.

[Then…skate the gala!] chirped the short stout man, the sweat greying the lapel of his shirt.

The taller man clapped his thin hands together. [Yes, the gala! We just need to show them you can skate… alone…. The RSF will pay. We need to see your Russian pride!]

[I don’t need the RSF to pay…I’m no-] Victor began, stopping with a bewildered gaze as Yakov held his hand up.

Clearing his vocal cords with a deep gritty cough, Yakov spoke, [Victor will be there. He’s apart of the Russian team and has come back. He’ll skate.]

[Good! Great, this is exciting, right Mr. Nikiforov? Back again?]

[It’s perfect!] Victor mused, but the perfect usually spiraling with excitement fell flat on his tongue even with the smile. _Trapped. Stuck._

Thank yous, handshakes, and goodbyes buzzed past Victor with barely any notice somehow, he was walking down the arena hall. The cool smell of ice titillating his smell as he breathed in deeply. “I really don’t have anything prepared for the gala.” Victor tried, breaking his gaze from the floor to stare out the floor to ceiling windows. Cars skittered by, honking erratically between the sounds of screeching tires...

Yakov sighed, “Victor, you’re 28. Still haven’t learned you can’t always get your way.”

“I learned that at fourteen, Yakov.”

“It never stuck.”

.

.

.

.

“You have to go to Euros? Tomorrow?” Yuri asked. His legs tucked into one another as he sank into the soft mattress of the bed.

Whizzes of silver blurred before his eyes as Victor rushed from the closet, his arms bundled with clothing. Undershirts, his soft black athletic pants, the maroon three quarter inch shirt Yuri used to watch flail against the wind current of Victor’s spin all tumbled into the suitcase. Victor paused, looked down at them, and refolded each one neatly arranging them in the suitcase. “Yes, Yuri.” He said wearily, whipping his body quickly to return to the closet.

“And it’s because they asked you to skate the gala?”

“Mhm” he called from the closet. Yuri listened to the clinging of hangers and the soft shuffle of clothes. “I’m sorry I have to ask you to watch Makkachin. It’s so sudden. I don’t want to put her in a kennel… It’s okay, right Yuri?” he asked, settling the next set of nicer clothes into the suitcase.

“Mnnnh.” Yuri nodded, casting his eyes downward as Victor walked out of the room. _Victor’s been acting strange since he came back to the rink. Is it just being asked to the gala?_ Yuri thought, feeling the nudge of a wet nose in his palm. Bowne es found brown fur rustling towards him, Makkachin snooting his hand up until it landed on the poodle’s head.

“I wanted to show you another rink this weekend.” Victor pouted, his feet barely making a step as he took soft steps back into the room. “We haven’t even been to the ballet! We were supposed to have more time!” he pouted, the roll of the zipper sounding in the silence as he closed the suitcase. White shirt ruffle in the turn, Victor landed on top of Yuri with a plop.

“Victor! We have more time!” Yuri exclaimed, arms sliding over Victor’s shoulder to clasp them over his chest. “Why is this bothering you?”

“It’s not. I just would have liked more time…”

“Victor, everyone will be surprised! You love surprises!”

“I love you!” he said.

.

.

.

.

Thick black lashes peeled apart as the sleep from the night encrusted around his eyes. Yuri fumbled for his phone on the side table clumsily grasping it to pull it to his faces. Eyes widened and adjust to the blue light illuminating his face as he checked the time. _Victor has to leave for his flight in a few hours. _Yuri thought, turning over to gaze at his slumbering fiancé.

His gaze dragged over the square jawline; the silver wisps of hair splayed out around the bed as Victor lay on his back. Yuri’s eyes settled over Victor’s chest, pale with the sculpted pecks casting shadows in the morning sunrise. He lingered on the comforter, replaying every muscle and dip that lay beneath in his mind as Yuri moved to wiggle under the covers.

Shrouded in the darkness beneath the comforter, Yuri scooched closer, his breath quickening. Fingers traced of Victor’s thigh, barely making contact with the skin as Yuri acclimated to the feeling. He’d been allowed to touch Victor since…well, apparently since Sochi. He had, but the anxious part of his mind still held him back from exploring everything.

_Victor’s been so careful, meeting me where I’m at. He never complains. He shows me everything. But…I want to show him I can…too. _Yuri thought, wedging himself in the space between Victor’s thighs. A gulp ran down his dry throat as Yuri settled himself, furrowing his brows as his palm wrapped around the still softened flesh. He moved his hand up and down the shaft a few times, listening to Victor’s breathing quicken in his sleep.

The comforter weighed heavier on his head than Yuri originally thought it would, not yielding to the free range of movement he usually had when Victor and Yuri typically got caught up in the heat of desire. He wasn’t detoured though, feeling the twitch of awakening arousal in his hand. Black hair poked back at him as it bent into the white cover while he secured his head at the height of Victor’s hips.

A flick of the tongue and a lick, Yuri smiled as he felt Victor clench his hands to his side, beginning to wake. Now was the time, his lips wrapped around the pulsing head and he felt the swell as his mouth slid down.

“Ahhh…ahhh… OUCH!!!!” Victor screamed, jerking upwards. The feel of teeth cutting into his tender sensitive flesh brought tears in his eyes. He winced as the thrust landed the back of his head smack into the wall behind him. “OW!!!” he whined, looking down at the mound beneath the covers.

“Shimmatta!!! S-Sorry! Sorry!” Yuri cried from beneath the comforter. Cautiously, Victor lifted the white plush, finding Yuri bowed with his hips in the air, his face planted into the mattress.

“Downward Dogeza? Yuri? What’re you doing?” Victor asked, his voice hoarse with the dryness of sleep and the ache of pain.

Brown eyes glanced up for a moment before breaking away. “I was… ummm…you’re leaving in a few hours and I wanted to…you know…” he stammered, his face flushing a deeper hue of crimson with each glance.

“Ohhhh!” Victor said, the pain being erased with excitement, “Yuri, that’s so exciting!”

A groan rumbled beneath the blanket, “It was exciting…” Yuri lamented.

Two arms swept under his dragging him up until he was flesh against Victor’s chest. Fingers ran through his coarse hair as Victor brushed the bangs out of Yuri’s eyes, cupping his face with both hands. “Yuri, it’s okay! You went for it! That’s amazing!!!!...... We just need to work on your teeth and when not to use them!”

“Victor!!!”

.

Wheels rolled against the wood floor, stopping with a halt as Victor tilted it upwards. “You have everything you need, right?” Victor asked, pressing his black coat down to flatten against his deep burgundy sweater, catching Yuri’s nod as an answer. He knelt down, ruffling Makkachin’s brown fur. “You be good for Yuri! No food that is not yours!”

“Victor…you’re going to miss your flight!” Yuri whined; his bare feet shifted anxiously as he stared at Victor.

“Alright, Alright…” Victor stood, stopping to gaze longingly into those deep forest of brown eyes. _A thousand souls could be captive in a chest and they’d not look as deep as his eyes. _Victor thought, sweeping Yuri into an embrace. His lips pecked Yuri’s cheek, then his forehead, then his nose, and of course the other cheek.

“Victor…” Yuri said through giggles. Each press of lips on his face warmed him from within, but also panged deep inside. _We haven’t been apart since…Makkachin…_ Yuri shook his head to cast away the thought, his hands holding the rim of his green sweatshirt.

“Yuri...” Victor spoke softly, his fingers pushing some of Yuri’s strands behind his ears. He leaned in, lips pressing to Yuri’s, deep and holding, trying to store the weekends lack in one motion. “I’ll always be with you. No matter where I am.”

_And just like that, Victor was gone. _


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

** _TO: Yuri_ **

_Taking off!!!_

_Text you when I land!_

_Read _

** **

Fringe fell over Victor’s eye as he hunched over, letting the blue light wash his face out as he stared at the home screen…again. His index hovered over the message app, the red squared button daring him to press the white envelope in the center and check to see if maybe he received any messages…again. From the moment the plane’s wheels rolled onto the tarmac, Victor itched to pull his phone from his jacket pocket and finally see if Yuri had sent any messages. He hadn’t. He thought maybe by the time he managed to trek to the baggage claim something would arrive. Once again, nothing appeared. Nor, on the shuttle. Nor while Yurio cursed at the already assembling fan base haunting the entrance of the hotel.

A deep, effectual sigh sprang from the pang inside his chest as Victor looked past the message button the photo of his home screen. Yuri’s honey glazed brown eyes glimmered against the gray tones of the day they sat in the gardens of the Hermitage Museum. Victor found a smile creeping in the corners of his momentary sadness, the specks of his white teeth gleaming from the harsh hotel light reflecting down. _The beginning of our St. Petersburg journey, Yuri. I can’t wait to…_

All thoughts curtailed in the collision of his phone held hand ramming straight into Yurio’s blonde haired scalp. “Watch where the hell you’re going!” Yurio spat, his fingers raking through his fine strands as he scowled viciously at Victor. Green eyes darted from the Aria case phone to Victor’s bleary look and back again. The cuff of his black denim jack snagged as he ran his hand through his har once more. He kicked his purple cheetah print shoes, the white rubber sole skidding along the shabby vintage red carpet in the foyer.

The clunk of Mila’s heeled boot announced her before Victor and Yurio could turn around. “Looks like old times.” She said, propping her elbows on the rim of her suitcase lever as she curler her hand to rest on her chin.

“Right, old times.” Victor agreed distractedly. His eyes remained on his phone while his thumb pressed the side button off and on. 

“We should all do something tonight!” Mila exclaimed, retrieving her own phone from her knee length beige coat. Clicking on, she began the cursory scroll through media, “I wonder if Sara’s here already? We could…”

“Everyone’s meeting down here for dinner.” Yakov’s rough growl stated, causing everyone to jerk in surprise. He emerged from the clerk with a tip of his fedora, turning to stand shoulder to shoulder next to Georgi. Thick fingers clung to a handful of room key card, waving them to catch attention. “We’re all going.” Yakov eyed Victor,” As a team.”

“Y-Yes, Coach Yakov.” Mila agreed sheepishly. Her thin fingers reached to take her room key card from Yakov’s grip.

“Lilia can room with Mila, and Georgi with me. That puts Yuri and Vic-“ Yakov began.

“Oh, I already got a room.” Victor stated nonchalantly, flicking his wrist to wave off the idea with his free hand. His blue eyes drilling into the phone in his hand as if he could burrow back to St. Petersburg and into his apartment with Yuri by sheer force of will.

“What?!? How did you-“ Yakov began to bark, his grey brows raised hallway up his forehead while his eyes began to bulge. Victor just flashed his iconic childish grin as an answer before switching his gaze back to the phone screen.

Yurio’s emerald eyes sought a new length in how far they could roll into the back of your head. “Of course, you did! I didn’t want to room with you anyways, idiot! Staring at your phone isn’t going to make pig reply any faster! Did you even turn the airplane mode off your phone?” Yurio huffed, shaking his body from his black jeans to his orange tiger graphic shirt in irritation.

Stunned, blue eyes blinked in thought, “Oh.” Victor said as the realization sunk in. _I forgot. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

**To: Victor**

_Have a good flight_

_You’re probably flying business so it’s always better than coach_

_Not that there’s anything wrong with coach. I’m fine with coach! It’s affordable. _

_Image: Makkachin laying in front of the bay window in the living room_

_Makkachin misses you!_

_Image: Makkachin wearing a green beanie_

_We’re going for a walk! _

_I hope Makkachin knows the way home. _

_Not many people speak English here, do they?_

_I should have you teach me Russian when you get back,_

_Your flight should be landing soon. _

_I think._

_Victor?_

_Sent_

No matter the amount of times Yuri flicked over to the message, the word “Sent” never changed to “read.” His olive-green sweats bunched at the knee where he sat cross legged on the wood floor in the apartment. Phone perched in his lap, Yuri sighed at the black screen, not wanting to turn it on for another disappointing reveal of the same sent messages and no reply. Fingers played against the floor as he pushed to stand, smoothing out the creases in his plain black t-shirt. His eyes searched outward, hearing scratches on the other side of the wall.

Slowly, his bruised feet stepped through the frame between the kitchen and living room. Spying curly brown paws nudging the empty food bowl along the wall, Yuri gave a chuckle, the first sounds to fill the apartment in hours. “Is it dinner time?” he asked. A wiggle and whine from Makkachin gave an eager answer, following in toe as Yuri rose to gather some of the needy poodle’s food from the closet. _ I wonder if Victor’s flight was delayed? _He thought, pulling the handle to the door. Brown eyes widened as he inhaled Victor’s scent pouring out from the coats still hung in the closet. Yuri inhaled, taking in the musk and notes of cologne still lingering on Victor’s lapel. Aromas of sequoia wood, cardamom, and rosemary tingled the senses with the summery aquatic fragrance.

Staying a second longer than necessary in the closet, Yuri turned, expelling a sigh as the door shut. The deep wandering hues searched the apartment as he barely registered the forward motions, the dip to pour the kibble into the bowl, or the excited wet tongue licking his fingers in thankful reply. Edges of the kitchen closed in and expanded in Yuri’s mind, no longer busy with the chopping and slicing between laughter of Victor’s zeal in explaining whatever dish he felt like preparing. It was empty. He moved further now, his mind a zone beyond reality, his outer vision frayed in gauze, torn and tearing. His finger sought the light of the bathroom, flicking it on with the side of his pinkie to reveal the porcelain white shimmering tile, tub, and sink. No bubbles foaming up over the flap of the bathtub, Victor’s leg dangling over the edge while his blue eyes sparkled with invitation. Toes met the chill of the tile as Yuri stepped in, sending shivers up his leg and back until he wrapped his arms over himself. The white cabinet next to the doorframe tapped as Yuri opened it, pulling the white opaque cologne bottle from its place on the second shelf. _Victor’s cologne, he always smells like this after a shower. _Yuri thought, spritzing the bottle until a tuft of wet fragrance sprayed out, the memorable scent wafting through the air until it fell against his t shirt.

Another sigh dispelled from Yuri’s lungs as he clicked the light off in the bathroom, turning his head to see a content brown poodle curled up next to the half empty bowl. The usual chatter of Victor talking to Makkachin and pretending the dog understood only left a quiet essence in the hallway, as hollow and sapless as a dead tree. The few steps to the bedroom felt like walking through wet concrete, slabs dragging into Yuri’s ankles as he moved. He glanced to the small basket of laundry in front of the washer on the way and paused. _I usually put everything away. I...don’t know how…but in this month we’ve developed a rhythm. A dance for things like chores. It’s different than at home, or even in Detroit. We’re just…together. _

Reaching the window of the bedroom, the streetlights illuminating the thin strips of light siphoning into the blackened space, Yuri released one final huff. The heat of his breath fogged against the pane as he glanced out. A few people loitered in the streets below, though sparse and trickling to just as few remaining stragglers in the minutes Yuri stared down below. Snow dusted the blacktop streets and red clay sidewalks with its steady fall. By the time morning came, Yuri was sure there’d be more snow than the day Victor arrived in Hasetsu.

Turning to drop, air puffed out as he fell onto the bed, scooping the soft white comforter into his arms. “Victor.” He spoke into the bedding, the barrier of cotton threads and foam muffling the pleading whine settling in the back of his call. Everything in the apartment was Victor. The musk of the books in the living room, the antiseptic lemon cleaner in the kitchen, the cologne, the floral laundry detergent; all of it was Victor and yet none of it was. All of the ethereal presence lingering in the stillness of the barely inhabited apartment filled Yuri with an uneasiness that wound his gut until he wanted to eat either a whole lot or not at all.

Yuri rolled to the side of the bed, reaching in the empty space between the frame and the floor. He felt blindly, until his fingers ghosted over soft fabric. With an earnest huff, he pulled up the item from beneath, meeting the black beaded eyes with a smile. In a few seconds, five brown poodle plushies smiled a yarn threaded smile at him in a line on Victor’s side of the bed. _None of them smile like Victor…but, they’ll do. _

His phone vibrated in his pants pocket.

_PING_

_._

_._

_._

_._

**To: Yuri**

_YUUUUURRRRII! I forgot to take my phone off of airplane mode!_

_Image: Victor smiling on a hotel bed_

_I’m here!_

** _From: Yuri_ **

_Victor… it’s okay. How’s the hotel?_

** _To: Yuri_ **

_The same as last time. It’s really great! Have you ever been to Ostrava?_

** **

** _From: Yuri_ **

_No_

** _To: Yuri_ **

_We should come sometime! _

_I have to go to dinner with the team. I’ll call later if you’re still up. _

_Tell Makkachin I miss him too!_

The linen origami dove fell over into a nosedive, plummeting into the navy cover as Victor sprung up, pocketing his phone in his jeans. Usually shining, his blue eyes looked dull as he stared at his reflection in the light wooden framed oval mirror facing his bed. Fingers ran through his silver bangs a few times, giving them the rustled effect that came synonymous with his brand: The Living Legend Victor Nikiforov. He ran through a few different smiles, the lines of his face pulled tight and bright, eyes shimmering. Satisfied with the warmup, Victor slung his grey coat over his shoulder, the black buttons scraping against the warm burgundy fabric of his sweater. A few fans could do to mollify the pangs in his chest.

As predicted, the shrieks bled out into the twilight as the team met outside the hotel to shuttle together to wherever Yakov destined them to eat for that evening. The shouts of Victor’s name rang over the shouts for Yurio, as the group of fans huddled in expectation. Blue eyes glanced sideways until Victor turned his head, dashing a coy grin with a wink. Though brief, the exchange was enough to sate the eager group as they waved him off into the shuttle. 

Swirls of yeast, oregano, and spiced sausages lifted through the air as the team rested into the red leather padded chairs, the steel legs shining against the black and white checkered floor. The metal spatula scraped against the pan as Victor lifted a slice of pizza onto his plate with a clink. Lifting the piece into his hand, sits of mozzarella strung out while he pulled away from his bite, his face drawn into a catlike smile as he chewed in delight.

“So, Victor… when’s the wedding, hmmm?” Mila asked, resting her piece topped with bits of chicken and onion back down onto her plate.

Victor rested his chin in his hand, the free arm reaching for his pint of ale to sip on with a smack of appreciation. The bubbles and malt whirled together exceptionally with the sausages on his slice of pieces. “Oh, um…. We haven’t set a date. Yuri still has to win...” he started.

“Gold? Tssk. Serves him right. You’ll never get married.” Yurio rolled his eyes as he spat, tearing half of his slice of pizza into his mouth with fury.

“Yuri! That’s enough.” Lilia ordered. She cut into the tip of her slice with a knife and fork, lifting the bit to nibble on the piece of pizza on the end.

“Love’s beautiful. It shouldn’t require a toll…” Georgi stated, mostly to himself and his own eighth of the pie sitting still uneaten on his plate.

Yakov growled, “That’s enough! We’re here. As a team. Representing Russia. Practice will be early, Yuri. Don’t stay up all night.”

“Yeah, yeah…whatever.” Yurio dismissed, sinking further into his chair. He pulled his black hood up over his hair and stared at his reflection on the silver metallic table.

“Don’t sound so sour, Yuri. You’ll meet someone, someday.” Mila’s mouth curled into a devilish grin as she cheered, nudging Yuri in the side with her elbow.

Yurio scowled, “Who says I want to meet someone! I’m not getting caught up in all that!”

Victor smiled graciously, “Ahh…Yurio, love is fun!” he spoke, finishing off his slice.

“No, thanks. I’m not ending up like you.” Yurio stated nonchalantly.

Victor’s mouth drew into a pout, exposing the bit of marinara sauce on the edge of his mouth plump and red. Mila’s curls bounced as she laughed, lifting her napkin to wipe the corner, “You’re a mess, Victor. You’ve got sauce on your face!” she giggled.

“Oh, do I? Thank you!”

_Shhhkkktsh._

_Click. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

With a click of the shutting door, Victor breathed out the sigh he’d been holding in since he left the hotel room. The edge of his lip trembled on the exhale; pink and vibrating. Fingers raced through his silver strands as he ran his hand through his hair, opening both eyes to take in the scenery. White walls. Light wood trim. Neutral colored covers and beige drapes. All of the perfunctory furnishings of a hotel room complete with the stale scent of antiseptic and over-washed linen. Every competition came with the same standard layout: Hotel room, practice, competition, exhibition. The excitement of the performance fueled the adrenaline that propelled Victor to look past the monotony. Without it, everything was boring.

Two kicks to the back of his heels and he stepped out of his shoes, peeling out of his coat at the same time. The edge of the grey coat drug along the scratchy grey fabric of the desk chair as Victor draped it over, friction leaving the strands of burgundy thread poking out from the static. Shaking himself from the electricity of the fabric, Victor dug into his coat pocket once more to pull out his phone. Hi thumb pressed the side and started tapping quickly, hearing the rolling ring before the phone even reached his ear.

The stagnant air of today started whirling fresh finally with each ring. Jittery fingers curled around the phone expectantly, a smile already breaking over Victor’s lips to hear the quiet tone of a pickup.

“Hello?” Yuri’s voice sounded dry and rough, but happy.

“Hiiiii!” Victor said as he plopped down on the mattress, bouncing on the impact._ I didn’t think of what to say once I called Yuri. _He thought, searching his voice for anything to talk about. “How’s…Makkachin?”

“Good. Just fed not long ago.” Yuri’s tone was soft, and Victor swore he heard a grin in his voice as he spoke. He leaned back, his blue eyes beginning to spark as he stared at the cream painted ceiling.

“Didn’t get into anything, right?”

“No, he chased a few birds on our walk.” Yuri said with the hint of a giggle in his voice.

Victor beamed to hear the laugh in Yuri’s voice. “Really? There’s a lot to do in St. Petersburg, Yuri! I could call the arena so you could practice. Or…I have a lot of books.”

“I don’t know Russian, Victor.” Yuri said flatly.

Though sounding distant, Victor heard the scuffle of bare feet on the floor. _We haven’t really had a lot of time to do much of anything except training and…well…_ “Oh, right. Well, what do you do on your alone time?” he asked, the intensity in his voice dialed to the tone of when he knelt down to ask Yuri about what he “liked” after arriving in the Onsen.

A few moments of quiet passed between the two, but Victor could sense the uncertainty before Yuri began to speak. “Umm… well… I played games on the console at home when I wasn’t practicing.”

“The one from the book, right? With the dragons?” Victor asked, rolling on his side to prop his head on his phone held hand.

“Uh, yeah, Dragon Quest. It’s pretty popular in Japan.”

“Any other ones?” Victor pried, the ignition flicking with the start of an idea.

“Victor, do you know anything about video games?”

“Ah- no, not really.” Victor conceded, “I know there are all kinds! What ones do you like?”

“RPGs mostly.”

“RPGs?”

“Role playing games. There’s a lot of them, and I like a lot of them. It doesn’t matter. I don’t have anything to play on.”

A pout formed on Victor’s lip, “What about your laptop?”

“Mmmnn… Mac’s aren’t made for most games.” He paused. Victor could hear the kicks against the floor. He envisioned Yuri, standing in the hallway, unconsciously kicking his foot as he spoke, searching for something to say, “It’s okay. What are you doing? When is practice tomorrow? Did you decide on a skate yet?”

“No, not yet. I’m not debuting my exhibition skate here. I need you for that, anyways.” Victor said, feeling the numb burn in his chest that had been residing since he got on the plane return.

“Victor…” Yuri started.

“Hmm?”

A hesitant hushed breath wavered through the line before Yuri finally said. “I...should probably get some sleep…”

“Oh, right. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yeh… uhh… Makkachin really misses you.”

“I really miss Makkachin, too.”

A dial-tone, a click, and suddenly the suffocating silence of the room wrapped around Victor’s throat and left him unsated. Blue covers wrinkled into the burgundy sweater as Victor turned. Silver hair fanned around him, eyes lasering into the ceiling until the cream lot it’s tint. White, eggshell, cream, off-white, porcelain- it didn’t matter. The washed-out paint dried and tacky felt as bored as he did; as alone.

_Yuri and I usually talk in the hotel room. Before… what did I do before? _With a gasp of enthusiasm, Victor popped up on the bed. Shooting off on the balls of his feet, Victor landed with a bounce as he stood upright. Black socks rubbed against the floor as Victor shuffled out of the room with renewed kick to his step.

.

.

.

.

**From: Otabek**

_Anything happen when you landed?_

**To Otabek:**

_No! Victor got his own room. He’s just being annoying. _

**From Otabek:**

_Ok. _

**To Otabek:**

_It sucks. Why does Kazakhstan do 4CC? It’s dumb_

**From Otabek:**

_We’re on the Asian side of the continent?_

** _To Otabek:_ **

_Whatever. It’s stupid. Euros is boring_

** _From Otabek:_ **

_You’re rooming with Georgi then. _

** _To Otabek:_ **

_It’s whatever. I’ll kill them all tomorrow. _

** _From Otabek:_ **

_I don’t doubt it. _

The faint line of a smile drifted on the end of Yurio’s lips as he read the last text. Hinting at happiness for a moment before rapid fire knocking on the door jolted him from the joy that attempted to cover him. Even without shoes, the sound of his stomp as he made his way to the door pounded his pale feet into the floor. Air swept his blonde hair as he pulled the door with a jerk.

“Who the hell-“ He started, until he noticed silver hair in the doorframe. “What the hell do you want, Victor?”

Two firm hands dropped on either of Yurio’s shoulder, squeezing the bone through the soft fabric of his hooded sweatshirt. Victor’s mouth gave a childlike grin, “Do you know anything about The Dragon Quest?”

Blonde hair flipped as Yurio shook his head bewildered, “Dragon Quest- the game? What the hell-“ he paused, shrugging off Victor, “Let me guess, Katsudon?”

A nod and a wink told Yurio everything he needed to know. “He said something about RPG’s… but I was already thinking about my surprise. I don’t know what to look for though…” and index pressed against Victor’s lips as he drifted in thought.

A groan expelled from the deep wells of irritation dug in Yurio’s body, and he dug it out longer until Victor stopped talking. “Ughh…fine. I’ll help you with this if I can stay in your room.”

“Really, why? You have your own bed.”

“Georgi’s writing…poetry? Or something? Lilia said I couldn’t hit him.” He admitted, kicking the floor with his bare feet.

“Okay then, sure. It’ll be like old times!” Victor laughed, turning to gesture back out into the hall.

_Old times…before Katsudon… yeah right. _

The shuffle from one room to the next landed Yurio falling back onto the queen-sized bed, his grey joggers riding up his calf as he sank into the mattress. A short step away Victor babbled something that Yurio gave no intention of hearing, never mind listening to. His hand shot up in the air, “Give me your card. I’ll do it.”

“Really?!?” Victor beamed excitedly rummaging through his back pocket. His wallet snapped open and he dug for his card. “I think Yuri’s going to be really surprised. I know I saw on his official skating page his hobby was gaming…but I’ve never seen him…”

“Tsk. Like he’d have any time with you there.” Yurio said, his tone bitter. His hand dangled the phone above him as he gazed up at it, the blue light flickering over his green hued irises with each tap.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Victor pouted. The bed shifted as he sat, extending his arm out while he held his car between two fingers.

The brightness of Yurio’s green eyes flickered in irritation as his free hand circled the air pointedly in Victor’s direction. “All. This. You and him. It’s annoying.”

Victor shrugged, his biceps forming on the form fitting sleeves “It’s love.”

“And _that’s _annoying.” Yurio shook his head, swiping the card from between Victor’s fingers before returning to tapping on the screen.

“I just don’t get it.” Yurio said.

“Don’t get what?” Victor asked.

The wheels of memory spun fine threads, tying together events from that last year together. The weaves threaded until the memory submerged of losing the event against Katsuki Yuri, the fight to the podium, the uneventful Russian Nationals, and then…whoever it was at that coffee shop.

_Victor only has people who stand in his shadow. No matter what you do, Victor will always be first. You can break all his records and he’ll still be the living legend._

“You had the whole world. Why’d you give it all up?”

“It’s just…”

“Love, yeah I know. I’m never going to be that stupid. Not like that. It’s all garbage. You’ll both lose at Worlds because of it.”

.

.

.

.

The snap of metal gliding across newly smoothed ice ricocheted through the air as Victor watched from the stands. Blue eyes scanned over the area, observing intently as Yurio lined up for another run through of his short skate. _Everything Yurio said last night about love, he’s still so unsure of Agape. _He thought, eyeing the land of Yurio’s quadruple salchow. His gaze drifted over Georgi, looking through a few moves before drifting back to turn his phone on one more time. _It’s too early to text Yuri. I’ll wait. _Victor assured himself, nodding his head lightly as his silver fringe brushed his cheek.

A sight of wavy blonde caught in Victor’s peripheral as he stared straight on at the ice longingly. Two gulps and a sigh before the deep liquid voice Victor knew before even having to look was Chris. “Don’t tell me you came to Euros just for me?” Chris cooed.

Victor gave a half grin while his eyes remained on the ice. “I’m not competing.”

“Not skater Victor? Not Coach Victor? Who are you today?” Chris teased.

“I’m…just Victor.” He replied, his voice soft and serene.

“Hmph. Just Victor, huh?” Chris mused. The equipment in his black duffel jangled as he set it on the bench next to Victor, followed by himself. Bits of hay hued hair dropped as Chris bent to change into his skates. The bit of silver metal caught in the light, catching Victor’s eyes. “Well, does just Victor want to come with me?”

A sly grin melted the strain in his face as Victor’s sapphires glimmered in his eyes. “Of course, I’ll always come with you.”

Grey skies caught the fading light, burning out the brightness to subdued dreary skies until night tucked the day to rest. The streetlights provided a steady bit of light, casting yellow hues over the blonde and silver strands as Victor walked shoulder in shoulder next to Chris. Victor’s hand crept into his pocket, holding his phone secure in the fabric. Blue eyes followed the point of Chris’s index finger, showing the way to the bar.

“It’s just up here.” Chris assured.

Victor’s eyes fell on the stream of people filtering in and out, stumbling and laughing. The subdued blues and purples of the lights seeping out with the open and shut of the glass door. “Ohh! It looks exciting!” Victor beamed, his hands out with an animated gesture. Tapping soles of Victor’s charcoal hued boots kept in rhythm with the bass thumping out of the bar doors. He could feel the heavy snare snap radiating in his foot, up his legs covered by his dark form fit jeans, all the way up his spine, sending excited shivers beneath his black button up.

As they rounded the step to the entrance, Victor’s ear perked to the ringing of a bell. He turned just in time to jump out of the way of an oncoming bike, wheels rolling at such speeds the entire body blurred as he whizzed back. Fingers latched onto the back of Chris’s grey sweater, Victor pulling him into his chest just in time as the rider swiped by.

He pushed back his arm enough to scan over Chris’s body, assessing any injury. Though his green eyes seemed shocked, pupils dilated, his white t shirt wrinkled a little from the unintended embrace, the grey denim unscuffed; all looked well. “Okay?” Victor asked, keeping his grip for a moment on either of Chris’s shoulder.

“Yeh…thanks.” Chris shook off the scare for a moment and gestured back to the door, “Shall we?”

_Shkkkshhh_

_Click _

The hour passed with bubbles of titillating drinks and jives, innuendos, and teases. Settled into the back of the silver painted woven bar stool, Victor took in the room in liquor-goggled eyes. Brick walls moved to the melody of the music, glasses catching the reflection of the multicolored lights waving around the darkened bar. A bitter chill poured through the door opening and shutting as happy stumbling people left, and new customers waiting to imbibe came in.

The blue beam of light strobed over Victor’s eyes, the entire eye turning the color of a pure Caribbean ocean. They flittered down over where he cradled his phone in both hands, the wine Aria covered by his fingers as he read through the messages one more time.

** _To Yuri:_ **

_(_ _✿_ _´_ _‿_ _`) Good morning!_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_Real Cute. Morning, Victor._

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Did I wake you up?_

_Yuri?_

_٩_ _◔_ _̯_ _◔_ _۶_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_No._

_Makkachin did. _

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Sleepy Yuri! I bet you look beautiful. _

** _From Yuri:_ **

_I am not! What are you doing today?_

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Chris and I went to lunch. _

_It’s a little café! It’s so cute!_

_(─_ _‿‿_ _─) VKUSNO! (That means it is really good written in English)_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_I know Victor. You told me before. _

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Oh, yeah. _

** _From Yuri:_ **

_You forgot._

The clank of glass against the black wood of the bar table brought Victor from his place in reading. Eyes wandered over the shot glasses containing a liquid that drained from nude to clear to red. Chris’s nimble fingers wrapped around one, scratching the class against the wood as he dragged it to his side. Lifting it in the air, the liquid floating back and forth as he spoke, “To your comeback.”

Silver hair dipped past the heightened cheekbones as Victor reached to grab his own, nodding in agreement as he dipped the shot back. Sweet cream liquor with a hint of supple strawberries sprung his taste buds and Victor smacked his lips, purring, “That’s really good! What is it?”

“Slippery Nipple.” Chris said, giving a coy glace in Victor’s direction.

“Ah, Chris! I should text that to Yuri.” Victor spoke, his amusement wearing as he typed on his screen.

“Miss him that much?” Chris asked, the neck of his martini glass whirling the light orange hued liquid as he twirled the glass between his thumb and index.

A heavy sigh escaped through Victor’s lips as he reached his eyes steady into Chris’s green. “That noticeable, huh?”

“I’ve seen you on your phone all day, and not one selfie has been on my feed. I checked.” Chris said, resting his chin on his palm, his black jacket scratching against the stubble on his chin. “I’d be jealous if it wasn’t so cute.”

Victor opened his mouth to respond only to pause as a man approached, his sweeping blonde hair catching in the light, “Excuse me, gentleman. Can I buy you a-“ the light caught Victor’s gold band in the light, reflecting as he let his ringers trace over the wide brim of his drink. The man bowed, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t see your ring.”

He nodded in apology one more time before departing, leaving only the sound of a deep barreling laugh bounding from Chris’s chest, “Wow. Things have changed!”

.

.

.

.

Though the day peeked in through the large bay window to greet Yuri… Yuri did not want to be greeted. A deep groan vibrated into his pillow as his thin arm reach out of the plush comforter, grabbing one of the poodle stuffed toys. He threw it over his head, creating a small dog shaped fort as his mind reclined back for another few minutes of dark slumber.

Still lost in the peaceful rest, Yuri didn’t hear the door creek open. Nor the paws padding faster and faster against the floorboards. Suddenly, Yuri sprung up at the impact of a mass rushing on top of his stomach. Paws dug into his ribcage as Makkachin nestled against his chin, pink tongue lapping Yuri’s cheek with kisses.

“Okay, Okay! I’ll get up.” Yuri surrendered, flinging his legs over the bed with another groan to rise up. Following Makkachin’s lead, he stepped all the way to the hall closet where brown furred toes scraped against the floor. Opening the closet door, Yuri straightened his glasses on his face, adjusting to the world in clear view. “It looks like I used the last of the food last night, Makkachin. I guess I’ll have to go to the grocery… Do you know where one is? You probably know more Russian than me.” He giggled as he spoke, threading his fingers through the permed fur as he scratched Makkachin’s floppy ear.

Bound in the winter gear Victor insisted he needed; Yuri walked the street. Frost nipped at the tip of his nose, leaving it reddened against the cold. Brown eyes looked down to his phone where he held it in his hand, a map at the bottom of the screen alerting him where he needed to go as he read through all the messages he received while sleeping.

**From Victor:**

YUUUURRIII

I want to go to the onsen

Soo nice

Warm

♥‿♥ Like my Yuri.

A wide smile escaped from his mouth, his lungs breathing in the prickling artic air. The high-pitched ring of a bell and Yuri looked to see the door to the grocery, tucked away in traditional tall brick buildings. With a push, the heat of his palm printed into the steel bar of the door, refreezing as it shut behind Yuri. _I haven’t been in here without Victor, but I think I know where the dog food is. _Long rows of steel shelves lined the middle of the small market, stocked with cans and boxes. Yuri’s eyes grazed past the multicolor labels, squinting to try and read the labels. His fingers gripped the white facemask, trying to pull it further up his thin nose as he averted the eyes of other shoppers. _No one knows who I am in here without Victor. _

Three rows later and Yuri finally spotted the pet food aisle at the end of a rack of magazines. He skirted around the cluster of what seemed to him as an unnecessary number of boisterous teenagers talking in an ungodly decibel for this hour in the morning.

“Victor Nikiforov?!?” one screeched. Brown eyes snapped at the name, seeing the girl point to a black and white picture printed on the front page.

_Why would Victor be in one of those magazines? _Yuri wondered as he crept inconspicuously behind the group of girls, snatching one of the magazines up. Continuing with the mumbling Russian, none of the cluster of teenagers paid any mind to Yuri. Fingers fumble to his phone, quickly typing in the passcode and pressing the translate button.

Eyes travel across the page, Victor standing with an easily recognizable Mila in the first picture. The next showed him holding onto a man in a very blurry photo. _That has to be when he went drinking with Chris. Why would these be a headline? Mila and Chris are there for Euros, too. _Yuri thought, trying to focus his phone on the page to begin translating. The group of girls snickered and laughed, saying something Yuri couldn’t understand… until he looked at the translated words on the screen:

His eyes read the words over and over again, seeing if they would change…but it was the same:

_ They broke up? Good. He’s just another whore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> I changed the formatting for the texting. I think it makes it a little more clear. Let me know what you think!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading! I'm sorry my updates have been more sparse. For the future, updating will probably happen weekly as I work to round this arc out. Don't fret! I'm not abandoning the story. There's still a lot to tell.

Chapter 16

White-slushed frost caught in the corner of the window, glassing over the reflection of silver glittering strands swaying behind the tip of a pale ear as Victor let the brim of the coffee mug tip over. Slightly over-bitter coffee poured down, catching his Adam’s apple as he gulped a few sips before returning the olive porcelain mug to the surface. Air brushed past his light pink lip, the heavy sigh fogging the window further, blossoming white until it evaporated to dots of dew on the glass pane. The giggles and gags from the drunken haze still purred beneath Victor’s brain, buzzing the morning with joy from the memories of last night’s antics. The blue light flickered on from his phone, as he tapped to the red message button, re-reading his texts.

** _To: Yuri_ **

_Mby Yuuurieee_

_I wnt to danhce with you_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_You had too much to drink. _ _😊_

_What’re you going to do now?_

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Hoipfulluy You_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_Victor!!!!!!_

A sly grin plastered over his face on the last words, a chuckle bounding from his chest, rippling his torso against the white and blue striped sweater with each laugh. _Oh Yuri, you have no idea how much I want that to be true. _The light caught the gleam in his eyes, the swirl of lust deepening the sapphire in his eyes until they pooled with desire. He scanned the cafeteria from his vantage in the corner, gaze sweeping over the sleep crusted eyes of competitors beginning to rise, clumsily walking into the opening from the foyer.

The shrill gasp from the other side of the room caught his attention, eyes snapping to find the owner of the voice. Red curls bobbed down low as Mila sat at a table across the way from Victor, shrinking. Her blue eyes kept catching his, darting from him to the phone in front of her. _What is going on? Mila isn’t usually coy. I think she’s with Sara and her brother, and I think the other one is Emil? Yuri was in Rostelecom with them…why would she be looking at me like that?_

Thoughts pulled in bullet points in his mind, trying to connect them with fraying thread; clues with no similarities. With a bounce, he rose from his seat, one hand reaching for his mug while the other pressed down his black slacks. The tips of his black loafers clicked against the tile floor as he stepped over, a smile glazed on his face; dripping sweet.

Every step forward brought a new piece to a jagged edged puzzle. Dark brown hair whipped around, purple hues drenched in fear as Sara looked at Victor, her jacket swishing as she nudged Mila’s side and pointed. Not out of character, Mickey scowled as Victor approached, wrapping his arms around and muttering something indistinguishable. Wide cow like blue eyes seemed more tense, even though Emil still smiled, waving cautiously to Victor.

Mila’s eyes widened, brows cutting into the top of her forehead as she stumbled over her words, “Victor, I swear I didn’t do anything…” her high voice declaring frantically, waving her hands in the air in conjunction with her statement.

Lips parted to question, but Victor’s words were lost as a firm hand gripped his shoulder. Turning, his eyes met green eyes, Chris looking uncharacteristically disturbed, “Victor…last night…”

“What happened?” Victor asked, his voice stilled and pleasant as his eyes bulged in alert.

Mila gawked, “You haven’t seen?”

“No, what’s going on?” Victor asked, looking to Chris. The weariness clung to his red and white tracksuit as Chris pulled his phone from his pocket, clutching over the purple striped case as he thumbed through his phone.

Turning it around, Victor’s eyes dilated to adjust the brightness of Chris’s screen. “Here, it got caught by some tabloid…and just took off… I swear, Victor. I didn’t see anyone there.” Chris explained, looking expectantly as he watched Victor’s eyes scan over the title, “Victor Nikiforov Back to Bachelorhood? The legendary skater seen at European Championship solo.” And as he scrolled further down, catching the photo of Mila with her hand on his face at the pizza restaurant the other night, then the one of him pulling Chris out of the way of the biker. He sneered at the headline, “New Love for Nikiforov? Mystery Dates.”

A cackle leapt from Victor’s throat, bursting through the tightness that threatened to wrap around his neck and keep his lungs hostage from oxygen. “Oh, is that all. That’s so funny! Who’s going to believe this?” His smile drew up until he could no longer keep his eyes open, keeping the ruse of elation and calm.

“Victor, it’s so much worse.” Chris stated, the worry unable to be shaved off his face.

Victor cocked his head and laughed, “Worse than what? One time one of these tabloids said I was a mermaid.”

Mila paused, taking a deep breath before she began “Victor, they edited out your ring.”

_Edited out my ring? Well then, I’ll just have to put it back in. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

Cheeks tacked with the stinging redness of the nipping wind mixed with the concerted effort to restrain the humiliation and sorrow bunched inside. Yuri’s pale fingers gripped the paper, his fist crinkling it into a bow until the black text crunched into meaningless type. The white soles of his black sneakers left ridged prints in the bit of snow, each footprint smudging in his brisk paced trek back to the apartment. Lassoing his thoughts to keep his grounding, Yuri thought back to those most recent moments. Somehow, he’d paid for Makkachin’s food and the tabloid, though he could only recall fissures of memories in the hazy after moments. Every thought kept anchoring on the same word slapping him from his phone screen.

_Whore._

The word shackled and drug, latching over Yuri’s rolled up jeans and attaching a ball heavy enough that he strained up the dark wooden stairs of the apartment building. Each step forward snatched Yuri into another turn of the vice grip surrounding his chest. _I…never… people have said a lot of things. I took Victor from the sport. I was selfish for keeping Victor. Victor should break up with me…before we even… well, maybe we were sort of dating. I’m still unsure about that. But… I didn’t think…anyone…_

_Did doing Eros make me a…. _

The thoughts broke with a snap as Yuri dove in and slammed the door. He heaved, the heavy wood woofing at the force of Yuri’s back against it. Sucking in a cry, Yuri pushed himself off the door, his fingertips springing with the shove. Everything ached. Every breath stung like a thousand needles poking inside his lungs; an acupuncture gone awry with every inhale. A wet tickle lapped against the ends of Yuri’s fingers, and his deep eyes turned downward to see Makkachin licking reassuringly as his hand. A black snout tipped up his palm, nudging Yuri’s hand atop the brown curls.

“It’s okay Makkachin. I got your food. Here, let’s get you fed!” his voice croaked, still raw from the run back to the house. But a smile settled on his face, the pink pout lifting as he ran his fingers through the thick fur. The knock of kibble against the bowl almost drowned out the ping from Yuri’s phone still nestled away in his pocket.

** _From Phichit_ **

_Yuri! _

_Are you…. Divorced?!?!_

** _To Phichit_ **

_I’m not married… _

_Why?_

** _From Phichit_ **

_You haven’t seen?_

_It’s viral. _

Fingers trembling. the image shook in Yuri’s screen as he read it from the drop down. Black strands swayed with the shake of Yuri’s head, trying to knock the strain out of his brain. Unfurling out of his winter gear and shoes, he sought his laptop from the living room coffee table. The crook of an index pried open the silver screen, popping it on from its slumbering state. A few taps of the keys on the browser tab and Yuri stared at the results.

** _Russia’s Hero Victor Nikiforov Calls Off Engagement_ **

** _Skater Katsuki Yuri Missing from Euros_ **

** _No Ring for Nikiforov? The Truth_ **

He scrolled through the list, clicking from one to the next. Everyone read the same with the same two photos from the tabloid in the store. _I couldn’t read it in Cyrillic, but this…_ thought poured, splashing out of his overfilled heart and beginning to pool at the end of his eyelid. A clear tear trickled through the thick black lashes, streaming a ling down the center of his cheek. The article showed cropped and cleared images of the two, neither photo showing Victor’s ring.

Cradling his right into his left, Yuri thumbed the gold band, eyes flickering each time the ring caught the light. _I don’t understand…did something happen? Is this a joke? _Nothing made sense. He reached into his pocket, pulling his phone back out. Brown poodles smiled with their tongues out on his phone case until he flipped it over. More texts: Minako, Yukko, Nishigori, even Mari…and…

**_Incoming Call: Victor_**

Feet shifted and shuffled, throwing on his winter gear as he shuffled to the door. He pressed the side button and held.

**_PHONE OFF_**

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_“Hello, the number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable…please try”_

_Click_

The hummed dial tone echoed and faded, mocking Victor for the seventh time. With a grieving sigh, he resigned to pocket his phone in his coat pocket, fingernails dragging with zipperlike sounds down the lining. Metal rings scratched against the bar as Victor pushed back the black curtain, returning to the athlete’s hall. Loafers tapped against the tile floor, the luminescence of the wax fading from the amount of dusty shoes marking across the floor at this hour. Victor scanned the area; the crisp white painted walls scant with anything besides a few TVs showing the current skater on the ice.

An announcer called overhead, “Next up for Men’s singles is Emil Nekola representing Czechoslovakia….” The applauses started to drown out the booming voice, along with Victor as he stepped through the area. _Yakov’s probably with Georgi, he’ll be going up soon. I think. _He thought, noticing Yakov shuffle in his suit, readjusting the brim of his fedora as he nodded to Georgi and spoke something inaudible, but the clench in his square jaw told Victor more than the words ever could.

“You’re not supposed to be back here, Victor.” Yakov’s voice shook a startle though Victor. He whipped around, his shirt lifting about his belt buckle in the turn. “Why aren’t you in the stands?” Yakov ‘s grey brow quirked as he spoke.

“I…umm…” Victor began, his eyes looking like a lighthouse for the ship in the storm. His shoulder lifted as his eyed lit with the finding, “Oh, Chris! Excuse me.” He said, stepping out to avoid Yakov’s irritated gaze.

The glitz of sparkling stars on Chris’s costume dazzled with each stretch of the leg, the deep space of blues and purples reaching out into the ether as he extended and flexed on his mat. “Chris, how’s it going? You’re up soon, right?” Victor called, earning a snap of surprised green eyes.

Leaping up from his mat, tufts of blonde rising and falling in the bounce, Chris waved as he walked, “Yeah, not long…” he said. Victor felt the heat of Chris’s gaze looking him up and down, searching for a clue. “Yuri hasn’t answered yet, has he?”

Grey coat clad shoulder slumped, Victor nodding, “No, he hasn’t. Do you think he saw?”

The sheen white and red of Chris’s country jacket swished as he shrugged, his long lashes framing earnest in his eye. “I don’t know. I don’t see him on SMS a lot, but he still has eyes.” Chris tries, “The comments are unforgiving.”

“Mhm.”

“Fans already didn’t like it that you left. No one is as relentless as a scorned fan feeling justified.”

Another nod, silver shaking as his eyes retreated downward. His fingers slipped into his pocket, pulling out his phone along with his bright eyes and happy go lucky grin. “Okay, Chris…” he said, stepping to his shoulder to lean in.

“Another one?” Chris asked, side-eyeing Victor.

“As many as it takes.”

“Okay, what position do you want me in?” Chris purred.

Teeth veneer and glowing, Victor laughs, throwing his arm over Chris’s shoulder until his right hand dangled, the gold band shining in the light. “This one.” He stated, the flash blinding with the snap.

“You’re starting to remind me of Phichit.” Chris laughed.

“Phichit?!? Yuri’s friend Phichit! You know what, Chris, that’s perfect!”

With a wink, Victor turned to nod off in another direction, fixated on his phone. Thumbs tapped soundly against the screen, keeping his attention away from the other people cheering for Emil’s score. Somewhere in the goggled background he might have heard_, “Mickey did you see my score? Mickey?!?”_ but it never formed concretely in his mind. The only listening his mind was interested in was the sound of his reading in his mind with each post and hashtag.

SMS Direct Message to:Phichit+chu

-nikiforov: Phichit! Hi, do you still have photos of Yuri and me from the Banquet?

Phichit+chu: Hiiii! Yes!

V-Nikiforov: Are there any you haven’t posted?

Phichit+chu: Maybe… a couple? There were a few Yuri asked me to take down…

V-Nikiforov: Perfect! Post them!

“Hey asshole, watch where you’re going.” The distinct bark of an angry kitten bit at him as Victor looked up, his phone lightly touching the top of Yurio’s scalp.

The blue in Victor’s eyes shimmered from above, a joking grin wound upwards as he stared down at Yurio. “Oh, Yurio! I didn’t see you.” He said playing coy.

“I’m not that short!” Yurio spat, his arms folded over the white stitched letters on his team jacket.

“Yes, right.” Victor cackled, his eyes flashing a bit of solemn as he took his phone out to check the screen.

Blonde hair fell to touch the tip of his chin as Yurio scoffed though he hesitated on his words, “Victor… are you gonna watch this thing?!? Isn’t that what you came to do?”

“Yes, yes. I was just trying to-“ Victor pointed aimlessly, dropping his hand to his side with a sigh.

“I saw the stories… it’s bullshit.” Yurio said, his eyes looking down the hall.

“Mhm.”

“There’s better ways of making you look like an asshole. Why’d they take your ring out?”

“They were probably told to…”

“Huh? By who?”

_Who? I know who. The same reason I’m here in the first place. Locked. Trapped. Alone. _Victor stopped thinking before the anger steeled into his eyes and blinked, “I’ve got to go. Davai, Yurio!” he sang, voice sincere in his enthusiasm.

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Left turn, right turn, two lefts… or maybe it was a right. Somewhere between the shut of the door and the same red stone sidewalk Yuri stopped recognizing the storefronts. The green awning for the grocery a distant memory from all of the shops in front of him. All of the buildings appear similar, streets upon streets of shades of beige architecture stacked next to each other, eclipsing the horizon.

_I just.. wanted to get to the rink. _Yuri thought, licking the bottom of his lip over the chapped creases forming. Breath still settling from the rasps and wheezes of his run out the door, Yuri pressed his fingers to his chest, the delicate length of his tips purpling and sore from the cold. Tears welled at the end of his eyes as the gold ring caught the shine of the sun, calling forward the images on his computer screen. _Victor wouldn’t do that… something…. There has to be a reason…_

_ Is it because I accidentally bit him?!?!?!? _Rationality skewed in the push of anxiety; Yuri’s eyes widened to the thought. His pace quickened in succession with the gasps shaking from his lungs and forming clouds of puff in front of him with each step. Something was off. Each store peeled from his view as fast as it came, his sneakers flinging specs of water as the drive of the steps turned into a run. Frantically, his pupils dilated in black ovals of fear, Yuri searched the area for anything that might give him an indication of the location, and how to get home.

Home- his and Victor’s home. The sleekly modern furnished apartment that shifted into a tomb the moment Victor stepped out of it. Makkachin the only vessel of warmth and familiarity in the tidy, kept place. Yesterday pulled the boards of the foundation that settled the place in his mind. _Home isn’t there. Home is Victor. Why was his ring off? _

A squeak of a laugh drew Yuri from the puddle of muck his thoughts started to step into. His coffee flavored eyes fell on a couple exiting a café, or at least that’s what the white mug decal on the gaping window led Yuri to believe. He approached the pair still chattering away while the fingered their gloves back on, choking out a question as his voice scratched the rawness of his throat, “Excuse me? Do you know how to get to-“

The girl gave a quizzical look, her fingers running through the strands of her blonde hair as she spoke, “Mne zhal'. YA ne govoryu po angliyski….”

Yuri nodded and bowed, the frost clinging to his black hair piercing his cheek, causing him to shiver. _She only speaks Russian. Everyone does. _The sound of his steps boomed into his ears, the pressure of the stomp pulsing blood to Yuri’s brain with each thump on the concrete. _I guess I could try my phone…. _Yuri winces as he puts his finger into his coat pocket the sudden warmth startling his raw from the element’s fingers. Thumb lingered over the ridges of the side button, pressing lightly. _Oh, that’s right… I turned my phone off because.._

“AAAAAHHHK!” Yuri screeched, his head ramming into the torso of a stranger. He flipped, legs sprawling over his head in the tumble while his phone flew through the air. It landed in the greyed snow pile, right at the smoky tip of the small ice mountain. A deep seedy groan escaped from Yuri’s belly as he recovered, pushing over the rest of the way. Fingers twitched against the ice as he leaned over, plucking his phone from the snow pile. Thick, melted snow sloshed off the back, leaving the slick residue over the blue poodle case. ”My phone…”

Two hands enveloped over Yuri’s shoulders, helping him to rise. Brown eyes still locked onto the black screen, flipping it around to upright. Hid hand trembled over the case, thumb resting on the power button. “Oh, honey, don’t turn that thing on! Don’t you know…” the person spoke, their deep tone nurturing in a way Yuri couldn’t place.

“Sumi masen…” Yuri sighed, slumping over. The thick wool lining scratched his neck as his shoulders rolled, tucking his neck into his chest.

“Summa-what?” the voice said again, buying enough interest for Yuri to perk up, and then up again. The woman’s long lanky fingers raked down her deep brown curls, bouncing against her tan olive skin.

“Oh! You speak English!” Yuri exclaimed, letting out a relieving sigh. “Do you...umm…” _I don’t know the address by heart, or the name of any of the stores…and my phone. _Yuri’s face bent maudlin in his anguish, twisting his features downward as his eyes cast to the ground.

Her wide hand rested against the woman’s hip, blue eyes looking Yuri over up and down. “Well, aren’t you just a hot mess!” She teased, her white tunic coat waving with her raspy laugh. “You got a name, sugar?” the burgundy of her lipstick framed the pearly veneer of her teeth as she smiled, genuine amusement radiating from her.

“Kats- err… Yuri, just Yuri” he said, averting his gaze down, his sneakers squeaking wet as he shuffled back and forth.

“O-Okay, just Yuri. My works just up here.” She said, the tip of her purple lacquered manicure struck just past Yuri’s nose as she pointed, his eyes crossing as he looked on. “Why don’t you follow me? I bet one of the girls has something to fix your phone.”

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** _From Otabek:_ **

_When do you go up?_

** _To Otabek:_ **

_In a few. getting my skates on now. _

** _From Otabek:_ **

_Okay. Good luck._

[ _https://youtu.be/FLZS3jQPnKw_ ](https://youtu.be/FLZS3jQPnKw) _ Eye of the Tiger_

Smirking, Yurio made the last knot, shrugging out his red blue and white team coat and depositing it into his black duffel bag. Green eyes peered out over the rest of the hall, narrowing at the sight of Victor holding his phone out. _I thought this weekend would be better without the pig… but somehow, he’s still here. Doesn’t matter, those idiot reporters just put the focus on Victor…again. It’s not like he’s even competing. _Yurio thought, rising to his full height. Bladed thudded against the tile as he stepped, the rubber cover muffling the sound. Blonde tendrils wafted behind with the pace of his fury, rolling behind his shoulder as he stepped into through the curtain to the arena area.

Applauses echoed throughout the stadium, the screams deafening as he spotted Yakov. He nodded and moved over, Lilia’s yellow coat becoming visible as he inched closer. Barely audible in the crowds of people, but Yurio caught the whispers.

“Did you hear about Victor?”

“The thing online? Who cares?”

“He wasn’t wearing his ring.”

“Do you think he cheated?”

“Maybe he just got bored?”

Ears reddened with the burn; the spring of anger welled inside Yurio aching to burst. He never turned to see who the voices were, keeping his eyes forward. _I can’t think straight with all this shit! Who cares about his relationship?!? Beating their asses on the ice is the only thing that matters…otherwise… leave them the hell alone. _

“Are you ready for Agape, Yurio?” Victor’s voice caught him off-guard from behind, causing him to startle. “I was thinking about your last performance at Nationals and…”

“Victor, he’s up.” Yakov said, his eyes steeled with finality.

“Oh! Davai Yurio!” Victor waved, his mouth a heart shaped smile.

Yurio stomped, not hearing the clink of his black blades as he peeled the rubber guards off, handing them over to Yakov. _I don’t get it. Victor might be an asshole, but the shit in those tabloids makes me so pissed off. There’s only one way to show this…_

Blades scratch underneath, the silver sequins almost float in the shine of silver shimmering from the sequins. Blonde hair falls downward as Yurio tilts his head, his green eyes focusing on the ice beneath.

His starting pose begins.

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“Vkusno!” Victor cheered, savoring the sweet and tang of the appetizer in front of him. “This is very good. And the wine! It’s amazing!” he said, pulling his phone out to snap a picture. He looked at the empty chairs in the background, the dark blue light casting shadows over the black steel table and chairs.

“Here I thought I’d have the bar to myself!” a deep voice teased, before even turning around, Victor knew it was Chris.

“What were you going to do? Seduce the bartender?” Victor quipped, fingers rubbing the neck of his wine glass up and down.

The tight grey sweater lifted as he shrugged, “Can’t blame me for wanting free drinks.” He said, sitting down.

“Maybe he’ll give you one for being in second.” Victor said, winking.

Chris scowled, “Tomorrow’s what counts… I’ll make it. Plisetsky’s still too ripe. Not even you medaled gold everywhere your first year in juniors.”

“Mhm.”

“Any word from Yuri?”

Crimson liquid rippled as Victor sighed into his glass, shaking his head. Chris nodded in return, waving the bartender over. “Maybe it’s good you came to Euros. You can show everyone you’re back and they’ll leave Yuri alone.”

Silver hair flipped as Victor leaped in the air, his index extended like a lightbulb of an idea. “Yes… wait, that’s it!” he said, rushing out of the room.

“What’s what? Victor!!!”

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Pupils dilated and shrunk, adjusting to the darkness of the room. Show lights shone on the black painted stage, the velvety red curtains fluttering as someone shimmied out from behind. The woman Yuri naively followed in here appeared, the slit of her long cream A-line skirt parted as her hips swayed with every step closer in Yuri’s direction. Her stilettos clicked on the dark floor, lights catching the clear plastic on top as she walked. Long curving legs straightened one behind the other, leaving only her torso to slowly lean as she deposited the silver tray on the table. With fluid movements, the woman slipped into the chair next to Yuri, slowly moving one leg to cross over the other as the red leather of the chair cushions squeaked in the turn. The silver jewels on her blouse sparkled as she placed her elbow on the table, her finger point down onto the glass.

“Want one, honey?” she asked, her voice low and slightly unsettling. Her finger twirled in the air over the cup, catching the steam rising in a tornadic circle.

Black hair flopped as Yuri straightened up with a jerk, stuttering, “Oh-umm, it’s a little early for me to drink-“

“Relax, it’s only tea.” She said, lifting the cup in offering. Closer, Yuri smelled the chamomile and lavender infused into the tea leaves. With a nod of acceptance and thanks, his thin fingers wrapped around the ceramic cup, the heat warming his frosted fingers. The woman leaned in, the jewels scratching against Yuri’s bare arm under the short sleeve of his shirt. Colored black brows lifted as she smirked, taking a sip of her drink. “It’s Tella, by the way, at least here. Tella Sticles.”

“Oh-uhmmm… t-thank you, Tella.” Yuri managed to get out before the door burst open, blistering cold winds rushing behind. One by one, three other people came in, the point of their heels stampeding in taps as they entered. _Wow…these women are tall! _Yuri thought, watching as their heeled height almost hit the door. The first one in huffed, her deep brown fur stole nestling under her ebony shoulders as she shook the cold off.

Hazel eyes fell over Yuri, glancing up and down as the she shrugged off the stole, tossing it over the bar. “Who’s this cutie, Tella? You didn’t tell me we had new talent?” she said, English accent thick, fingers ghosting over the deep neckline of her black dress as she sauntered over, the two other women at her heel.

“No, no Dea… he’s not performing. This is Yuri…he’s… well I don’t know really what happened. He was all out of sorts when I found him.” Tella looped her blonde curl in her fingers, taking another gulp of her tea. “What’s your deal, honey? You seemed pretty lost when I found you on the street.”

Another Amazonian built lady behind Dea cackles, the top of her bouffant bobbing in her laugh. She caught her breath, pressing her elbow length white gloved hand to her chest. “You bring in another stray!?! Oh my, Tella, when are you going to learn? At least this one’s pretty to look at.”

Dea shushed with a pointed blue nail to the other’s lips, “Enough Vora! Let him talk.”

The rouge of the accents throughout the bar equally matched Yuri’s cheek as he flushed. “Ahh..no…um-I.. well, my coa- fi- boy… Victor ahh left…” he started, until Tella landed both hands down on him with a clap.

“Heartbreak? Is that why you running? Did he leave you?!?” Tella’s voice drug deep with dramatic, along with her nails carving into Yuri’s shoulders.

“Ah. Ah… no! He went to Euros! It’s just…” Yuri continued, trying to piece together the fragments of images; Victor leaving. Phone Calls. Texts. The tabloid. The pictures.

A shriek carried from the third woman, her bosom bounding as she raised her hand in the air. “Euros?! Victor?! You don’t mean Victor Nikiforov do you?” her Russian accent slipped a little from the weight of her enthusiasm. She drifted closer, the hint of her musky cologne leaving Yuri dizzy. He tried to stutter out an acknowledging apply, but his voice was lost in the moment. Without warning, her fingers clipped the rim of his glassed, dropping them onto the table, while her other hand pushed back his bangs, “Ohhh, I knew it!!!”

“Knew what, Katya?!?” Dea asked, fording her arms over and cocking her head.

Her hand stretched Yuri’s forehead until all that was left were thick black lashes and mahogany colored eyes, “It’s Katsuki Yuri! The one that Victor left Russia for!”

“Ohhhh,” the chorus of the other three chimed, realizing.

Vora tilted her head, red hear shining in the light, “We’ve heard all about Victor’s boyfriend…”

“Fiancé.” Katya corrected, finally releasing Yuri from her grip. The brass of the chair leg scratched along the floor as she drug it out, sitting down on the other side of Yuri. “I used to skate with Victor... and ballet.”

“Really?” Yuri’s eyes widened, encompassing all the years of idolization deep in his eyes as he spoke.

“Mhm. I didn’t go very far… but I remember Victor. That hair. Those eyes… He’s an entire sexual awakening.” Katya’s green eyes sought the ceiling as she tilted her head back, remembering.

Listening and thinking back himself, palms created friction as he slid his hands back and forth. “Yeah…” _You have no idea. _

Dea dipped her hands in her bag, pulling out a nail filer. She scraped mindlessly along the edge of her nail, eyes Yuri, “We know all about Victor from Katya…. Is that why you’re here? All that stuff online?” she asked.

Shoulders narrowed as Yuri sank into a sigh, nodding. “I was going to call Victor…when…”

A snap echoed throughout the empty bar as Tella gasped, the lining or her lips exacerbating the O shape of her mouth. “That’s right! Your phone! All right, all right you three. Yuri’s phone, it fell in a snow pile when we ran into each other.:

Katya was up with a leap, “I’ll get the hair dryer!” she sang.

Vora laughed, following behind, “I’ll get the tweezers!”

Dea rose up slowly, her voice an alluring drawl “I’ll get the eyeliner”

Yuri quirked a brow, “Eyeliner? Why eyeliner?”

“So, I can look good, that’s why!” she said, following behind in slow luxurious moments as the others all but skipped through the long row of candlelit tables, disappearing through the ruffles of curtains.

Tella rested her hand under chin, leaning into the table as she looked on with blue eyes, darker than Victor’s but still pretty in their own right, “So, while we wait… why don’t you tell me how you and Victor got together, sugar.”

“Oh…umm…well, I guess it with a lot of champagne…and a p-pole…” Yuri stared, leaning back against his coat draped over the chair. Seconds changes to minutes and suddenly Yuri divulged the entire season to the brightly animated eyes of Tella’s nods and exclamations. His eyes warmed to a chocolate as his cheeks flushed, explaining the cup of China and the kiss. _I don’t think I’ve every really told anyone about Victor and me… not like this. I don’t really know why I’m talking to a complete stranger in a bar about it either. Just…maybe after everything… this is the first person I’ve ran into I can talk to since Victor left. _ Yuri thought, as he began to talk about the exhibition skate, earning a squeal at the mention of the kiss. “…and now I’m here.” He ended, eyes staring down to the black table as if counting the rings in the wood for years.

The clattering of heeled feet shuffling in the distance took Yuri from further thought, glancing over to the Katya, Vora, and Dea walking over zealously. Their hands raised in the air, holding utensils and devices not discernable to Yuri. “All right, beauties! Let’s give this phone a makeover!”

“Hahhh?” Yuri gasped, his phone shaking in his hands. Katya reached down and took it gingerly with nimble fingers, giving a wink.

A few mutterings and moments later the three women stood around the phone like the surgery room of a medical drama. The low hum of the hair dryer sifted through the rest of the quiet as Katya held the handle to the know open cell phone. “Low heat works wonders for making sure your cell phone is dry! Once dropped my phone in a whole vat of glitter body oil! Talk about a tough time!” she relented, her hand making firm back and forth motions holding onto the teal blow dryer.

Coarse black strands tickled his nose, making Yuri remember his glasses were off his face. Nipping the back end with two fingers, Yuri reset his glasses atop his face, nodding over to Katya as a smile came on his face. “You…said you knew Victor?”

A grin curled around Katya’s laps, the ends of her hair wrapping around her waist as she turned. “Yes. I knew Victor when he was…. twelve? thirteen? Maybe younger. I trained in ballet with him. Then some skating before I realized it wasn’t for me.”

_That’s before I ever saw him! I don’t have any magazine articles from back then! _“Oh, umm… what was he like… back then?” Yuri asked, looking up with a sheepish grin.

Katya clicker her tongue at the top of her mouth, glancing up as her hands continued on the back of the phone, “Let’s see… he was nice, real sweet… even to the younger ones. Had a little shadow that followed him around for a spell. I wonder what happened to her….” Her voice drifted as she was lost in thought, “Ah, well, anyways… He was always charming, but mischievous. Had a few of the teacher’s hairs falling out if you know what I mean. He always seemed to belong… just… he made everything look easy. He was a beautiful boy…There’s no real way to say it…he was just…”

“Victor.” Yuri finished.

“Exactly. If he was ever troubled, no one knew. He was always smiling. That’s probably what I remember most, his smile. It’s…”

“Heart shaped” he inserted, his voice soft but certain.

“My… no wonder he likes you! You’re adorable!” Katya said, running her finger over the handle of the dryer, clicking it off.

“Yeah… don’t let those ugly ass tabloids shake you.” Dea interjected, waving her hand in the air. “They’ll take a picture of a monkey and put it on a baby if they think it’ll sell something.”

A heavy blot of pain centered in his chest, and Yuri gripped his shirt. _The ring… _ “I know… just…” _I translated someone calling me a… well, maybe that was wrong, too. _

Katya’s warm fingers wrapped around Yuri’s, placing his phone in his palm. “Here. All fixed!” she stated, lingering a bit to meet her dark blue eyes to his warm brown,” I don’t think that Victor is like that, honey. Press is just part of show business.”

Tella’s hands fell on her hips, gyrating them provocatively to a music not heard, “You just don’t know what you’ve got. If I had those thighs…”

“Eh?” Yuri balked.

Dea licked her lips barely coasting over her thick matte red lips, “Mhnn. Those hips”

“What?” Yuri’s hands snapped over the sides of his cheeks, trying to capture the redness that was already starting to glow.

“That ass!” Vora exclaimed with a laugh, tilting her head sideways to suggest gauging a better look.

“Hah?!? No-umm…I…”

“Right, if we had what you had… we wouldn’t second guess what Victor Nikiforov thought about us. You look like a total package. Plenty enough for a sex god.” Tella said.

“That’s dramatic.” Dea teased.

“Honey, we are queens. There’s no thing as overdramatic.” Tella stated with a nod and a grin.

“What- you’re…” _Oh! They’re only dressed as women…. I should have noticed that. _ Embarrassment flooded Yuri’s face a bright cherry red over his cheeks, which by now thoroughly warmed his fingers as his hands still help his face.

Dea long hand smacked Tella’s shoulder, “You didn’t tell him?!?” she said through a cackle, “This is a cabaret, Yuri. And we…are the performers. You know Tella Sticles, and that’s Vora Tex, the one who knows your Victor is Katya Lucious, and I’m Dea P. Throat. We’re… The Sensationalists!” Dea explained, thrown one hand in the air while the other rested on the hip.

“Oh…ah… yes….” He said, looking down at his phone. He tumbled over the edge, looking at the brown poodles on the cover before flipping it over and pressing the button.

**Power On**

Yuri gaped, his phone vibrating like a massage chair from the flood of texts, messages, and missed call notifications. He started to open them, noticing a majority from opening until one short one caught his eyes.

**_From Phichit:_**

** _ Yuri! OMG! Check SMS!!!_ **

The gold flecks in his chocolate eyes sparkled as Yuri swallowed dryly. With a few taps, he pulled up the feed of SMS, flooded with pictures of Victor’s page. Chris and Victor in the athlete’s area, A scowling Yurio and a smiling Victor near the locker rooms, Victor drinking a coffee; all with his gold band clearly visible. Yuri kept scrolling, groaning at the couple from Phichit from the banquet he’d rather forget with the hashtag STILL MARRIED attached. Just beneath, he paused, his fingers pushing up slowly as a gasp escaped his lips.

V-Nickiforov

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(Photo of Victor’s ring on the hotel bathroom sink, situated to show the half larger snowflake and smaller snowflake in the back)

**Liked by christophe-gc and 48975 others**

V-Nikiforov: Missing my other half #theonlyreasonItakemyringoff #katsukiyuri #willyoustillmarryme

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phichit+chu: YURI! @katsuki-yuri

christophe-gc: Way to keep a guy waiting, Yuri.

**_Typing_**

** _ New Comment_ **

Katsuki-Yuri: Yes.

_Incoming Video Call: Victor_

Tella peered over the edge, “Honey, you better answer that.” She motioned to the other three, “C’mon… we need to finish getting ready. Almost showtime!”

Heels pattering further away drifted in the background as Yuri slid the bar over the green. His reflection showed in the bottom on the screen, and he reached a finger up the fluff his black bangs.

Blue eyes broke through the screen almost, shimmering sapphires smiling with relief. Victor huffed a sigh, his mouth drawn heart shape, tipping over the brim with happiness to finally see Yuri. “Yuuuriii! Where have you been all day?” he cooed.

Yuri shuffled, a guilty look coating his eyes, “I’m sorry. Just got my phone back. It…fell in the snow.” He explained, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

Victor gasped, covering his mouth with his hand, “Oh, no! Yuri!”

Yuri let at a giggle, “It’s okay Victor, Tella Sticles helped me out.”

Victor cocked his head, silver fringe falling in the tilt “Testicles helped you out?!”

“WHAT?!? No…. Ohhhh.” Yuri’s face smoked from the heat of his cheeks, earning a look of endearment from Victor. At the sound of steps, Yuri turned to see Katya waltzing out.

“Hey, sweetness, did you and your beau figure things out?” Katya asked, giving a wink as she walked behind the bar.

“Yuri, who is that? Is that the testicles?” Victor’s confusion showed in his eyes, tinted with worry at the fringe of his brow.

“What?!? Ahh…. No… actually you know Katya…” Yuri started to explain. Katya caught wind of him trying to explain, and sauntered over, her red latex thigh highs squeaking with each step.

Katya’s head pressed against Yuri, leaning into the screen with a smile, “Hello, Victor. Long time” Katya said with a wing.

“Katya?” Victor asked.

“Kostya, you would have known me back then.”

Victor’s eyes widened, the realization donning on him like a new day. “Kostya!!!! It has been…a long time.” His smile slightly wavered, eyes growing dark before brightening again, “Thank you for taking care of Yuri.” He said, smiling endearingly.

Katya’s eyes melted momentarily, the blue beginning to water. With a shake, Katya smiled, “Glad to do it. He’s a real charmer. You both are always welcome to come here. Maybe you can perform!”

Victor animated his hands enthusiastically, “That’s a great idea, isn’t it, Yuuri?” he said, his tone so deep and alluring it warmed something deep within Yuri.

“Ah---Victor…” he started to whine.

Katya laughed, giving him a squeeze, “Tella already told me about the pole, Yuri.”

“He’s amazing! You should really see it!” Victor beamed, raising the heckles on Yuri’s neck, pocking into the neckline of his shirt.

“I should really get going. I’ll call Yuri a cab. Good to see you again, Victor.” Katya said with a sigh, rising up.

“Yuri,” Victor started, the blue and white stripes on his collar catching the end of the screen.

The quiet settled between them, each staring at the other without words to say. Yuri looked over Victor, the wear of the day barely showed on his face, but Yuri could see the tinge of dark shadows in the corner of his eyes. _These two days, I’ve felt heavy. My heart hurts. _“Victor… I…I really miss you.”

Victor let out an audible sigh, his eyes burning in adoration. “I miss you, too, Yuri. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Yuri, I’m going to do the Exhibition tomorrow. I want you to watch, okay?”

“Of course.”

Victor smiled, lowering his lids mischievously, “Don’t ever take your eyes off me.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge shout out to my husband for writing the video game portion of this chapter (and editing everything)! I can't do this without you!

Shuffling feet scuffed the doorway, Yuri drug his tired feet across the threshold. Or, almost the doorway. The tip of his shoe caught the end of cardboard, and Yuri toppled over, landing on his back end with a roll. Bewildered, he shook back and forth, the bits of end of his hair flapping along. “What the-“ Yuri started, legs turning along with his torso until he was on all fours, squared with a box the expanse of the doorway. Shoes, to hand, to leg, he pulled himself upright warily, eyes set on the box before him. Hesitantly, he approached, a whisper of a step on the floor as if he would uncover a bomb-or worse…something embarrassing.

A whine whirled him out of the discovery, and Yuri whipped on heel to see Makkachin shuffling back and forth on paws anxiously. “I don’t know what it is either, Makkachin.” He assured, the tips of his fingers running on level with the top. He curled his fingers around the edges, grasping firm and heaving. The box flew forward to the sound of his groan, finally landing itself inside the entryway as Yuri fell backwards, landing on the wood floor with a thump.

Pattering across the floor, Makkachin lapped at Yuri’s face, nursing any possible bruises from the fall. “Ahh, that tickles! I’m okay, I’m really okay!” he assured, reaching his hand to rub into the soft fur. Bits of curls wrapped into his fine fingers, weaving in and out and Makkachin rewarded him with a hop onto his lap. Yuri deflated from the ambush, spitting air with the hit to his stomach, wrenching him upwards until his nose lined with the top of the box.

Rising to his knees, Yuri drug his nails beneath the tape, zipping his nails over the smooth surface of the cardboard. A few tugs, and Yuri unearthed the cardboard and its contents. A gasp, starting small and growing in pitch came from Yuri’s lips, the sound leaving Makkachin with a tilted head and a curious whine. Beneath the multiple foam packing and large rolls of bubble wrap Yuri held up another box, and then another, with each new addition the width of his eyes began to rival the dinner plates sitting neatly in the kitchen cabinets.

The nerves settled outside his skin, pricking him with the frenzy of panic as Yuri’s fingers dove into the pocket of his jeans. He scrambled up, his feet popping out of his sneakers, landing a few paces over with a thud. Fingers resurfaced with his phone intact, an index jabbing at the screen. Yuri paced. His socked feet giving muffled thumps back and forth in in time with the rings. One, two, three…

“Yuuurriii!!!” Victor cooed from the other end, his voice beaming with joy.

“V-Victor…what’s all this…in this box?” Yuri asked.

“Box?”

“Did you forget? A b-box with a swi-“

“Oh, yayy! The dragon quest came.”

“It’s just ‘Dragon Quest’, Victor.”

“Right. You said you didn’t have any way to play your games and that’s what you did when you were alone… Well, with everything today I forgot to tell you to expect something. Are you surprised?”

Brown eyes searched through the boxes and cases, filling with anxiety, “Y-yes… but Victor you didn’t have to get all this-“

“I don’t really know what I got. Yurio picked it all out. What is it?!?” his voice hinged with anticipation, the excitement nearly drooling through the voice box.

“Ah-ehm… A Switch… A PlayStation… a couple of the Dragon Quest games…Super Smash Brothers…uhmmm….Monster Hunter World…Xenoblade Chronicles 2…and about 200 dollars in Nintendo EShop cards and PlayStation Network cards…”

“Really?!? That sounds amazing!”

“Yeah… t-thank you!”

“Of course, don’t stay up all night playing!” he mockingly chastised, “You have to be up to watch my skate.”

“R-right.”

For the first time that day, Yuri’s body teetered with bursting nerves, but this time from excitement, not anxiety. He scooped the pile into his arms, juggling the load to the living room. A few minutes of struggling to plug everything in, followed by trying to hide all the cords so that everything stayed neat, and Yuri was greeted by the triumphant horns of the “Dragon Quest XI S” title screen. He had gone to great lengths to set up all the things that Victor bought for him, that Yurio had picked out -- but the first thing he played was always going to be this, the latest in a series that he had been playing since he was small.

_I didn’t realize how much I had missed it, _he mused. _I don’t think Victor or Yurio know how much this means…_

He caught himself and sniffed, quickly wiping away the beginnings of a tear in his eye as he pressed the “A” button to start the game. A text box on the screen asked for his name; he paused for a moment, reminiscing about his younger years again before selecting the letters that made up his choice of character name since he was 12 years old: V-I-C-T-O-R.

He sat cross-legged on a cushion in front of the television, a smile painted across his face that washed away the stress of the past few days. He sighed wistfully during the peaceful beginning sequence, the protagonist’s mother reminding him of his own. The childhood friend in the game reminded him of Yu-chan – he was surprised to find that he suddenly felt an intense longing for his hometown. But then he encountered the character Veronica, and she reminded him so much of Yurio, with her sassy attitude and small stature, that he laughed, and suddenly missed Yurio, of all people. Through it all, the characters in the game kept saying “Victor”, talking to this protagonist but reminding him of who he missed the most. Rather than making him sad, it made him feel less alone in missing his fiancé.

Eyes drooped, Yuri’s lashes laying flush against each other as the time drug on. His body swayed back and forth, dipping lower and lower until his head flopped against the cushion. Out cold. The screen on Yuri cellphone lit with the fall, bouncing up and down. The time read: 5:36 A.M.

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_Watered vapors dipped and dove, the gossamer edges peeled from Victor’s sight. But there, unmistakably was the crowds of people, rolling in and out in schools of people. Mothers, fathers, children…. family. Christmas carols sang through the overhead speakers in the background, something thematic but distant from the world in view of the blue eyes. _

_ He stood, frozen amidst the droves of people cutting a divide to maneuver around him. He was there. Trapped. Unmoving even though the scene continued. A whoosh of airplanes leaving the deck outside were audible, somewhere with the seasonal tunes. Somewhere outside of Victor, outside of his control. _

_ Victor didn’t smile. He didn’t grin. Cold, stone, blue jewels gorgeous to look at but harsh and unbending replaced the dancing dazzling ocean tides that waved in and out carefree and full of joy. The dreamy tones of his face hollowed to a ghostly angulation of bones barely clinging the flesh. There was nothing. Only frozen. Ice in a desert. _

_ He couldn’t see the form in front of him, blurred, but he knew the voice. He knew the words about to be said. The empty matter of fact baritone voice crept underneath his skin, digging grooves to anchor him. Control him… again. _

_“Make your choice.” The voice said, “If you do this, your skating career is over. Not even you can bounce back from when this hits.”_

_Victor knew the reply before he opened his lips, fed out like he was calling his own lines in a movie, “I don’t care. It’s not true”. Stoic. Matter of fact. Cold. Uncharacteristic. A drama he had no intention of playing the role for. _

_A knife in the form of laughter, gutting him from the lungs upwards, “It doesn’t matter if it’s true… it only matters that someone believes it is. That’s what media does.”_

_ Another line. The script always played the same. It was the appearance of a choice when the choice was already made for him. The finality gripped his heart, cracking the edges of a glass he would soon heat to recover. None of the break would surface on his face, “Then what would you have me do?”_

_“What you always do. Be Victor Nikiforov.” _

Victor woke with a start. Arms reaching outward into the ether as if to rip the memory from the dream and change it until it wasn’t what it was. Breaths stuttered, rasping and heaving as Victor collected himself in the darkness. Fingers ran through the sheets, seeking the warmth he had come to know. But found none. _That’s right, I’m in the hotel. I’m at Euros._ He thought, reaching for his phone and clicking the side. The blacklight shone over his features, still sleek and full in the reality of the present, not the harsh and hollow from his dream. His thumb grazed over the screen, lining with the numerous notifications of likes, shares, tweets, and comments that normally crammed his phone screen. None of these were necessary. None of these were Yuri.

Attaching the phone to the end of the charger, Victor allowed the phone to drop onto the side table. _It’s only three in the morning, I can sleep a little longer. _He thought, muscles catching the cold air as he fell backwards, landing with a poof of air pushing around him. Lashes hit the tip of his brow, his eyes still glinting blue even in the shadow of moonlight streaming in from the gap of blue curtains on the window. Counting the specs of spackle on the top, Victor tried to erase the dream from the surface of his mind. Memories, he knew, couldn’t escape from the reaches of thought, but he could distance himself from it. In that, was a type of forgetting. Once again, the heavy metal chains wrapped around the memory, each blink pushing it further and further from the shore until the oceans of thought took hold and buried it in the waves ebbing and flowing; sinking the chained memory deeper.

Shoulders dipped, the tense muscles melting into the now less turbulent waves then before. Each side of his lips drew upwards, the carefree smile returning. His fingers stretched to grip the navy blanket, the scratchy fabric reminding him he still wasn’t home in his bed, with his high thread count cotton comforter, with his Yuri. But with the past sunken, his lids could fall over his sleepy eyes, the room comforting enough to yield a few more hours of sleep.

.

The beating sun warmed the tips of his ears, even if the chill of winter left the shadows wanting for heat. Victor lifted the paper sup to his nose, inhaling the rich blend of hazelnut and Columbian coffee, before tipping the plastic lid to his lips for a sip. The black sunglasses shaded the harsh sun rays from blinding his eyes but did nothing to shield him from being noticed. Even as he followed behind the team, his name shouted higher than the rest.

“Victor! Victor!” the squeals chanted, a pitch much privier for Makkachin’s ears than his own, though he smiled and waved pleasantly.

“Yurio, I think your fans are over there.” He pointed to a gaggle of bundled girls screeching. The yellow banner rolled out before them in a long band, Yurio’s name solidified in glitter and ink.

“Whatever. They’re annoying!” he scowled, reaching his fingers wound his hood to toss it over his head, trying to cover his blonder with grey.

An index finger held in the air, pointed for emphasis as the glass doors opened electronically to the entrance. “Fans are important, Yurio.” Victor stated, the grey coat sleeve falling around his wrist as he spoke. “Sponsors look for athletes with a good fanbase to promote their brands…”

The groan polled in Yurio’s gut and slipped out between his teeth, blonde lock falling as he threw his head back, “Stop nagging Victor! I seriously don’t miss having you on my ass!”

A wrinkle on Yakov’s side lined his eyes as he scowled, “Enough, both of you! Not in front of the reporters.” He stepped thick and heavy on the floor as he spoke, the cuff of his black slacks swishing around his loafers as he spoke. Flashes of light hit before any of them had a chance to peel off to a distant corridor or find an alternate route.

“Mr. Nikiforov, Mr. Nikiforov! Could we get a moment of your time?” The sweet squeal of a young female reporter beckoned, her tiny hand motioning Victor over. Blue eyes met with Yakov’s beady, already filling with rage, eyes, wordlessly exchanging the need to keep appearances.

Silver fringe fell as Victor nodded, pulling the side of his grey coat over his button down as he collected himself. With a turn in the direction of the camera, his smile rose to the acceptable height, the tendrils of hair floating as he stepped over to the reporter area. “Of course.” He said.

With the light flashing off his wide toothed grin, the barrage of questions tumbled, shot one after another without pause. Victor was certain if this was a mafia movie scene, he’d be a goner. But with it just being questions and reporters, he washed himself of the momentarily jarring thoughts and let off a breathy laugh, fingers touching his chest playfully teasing the at home audience. “O-okay, that’s a lot of questions. Let’s see if I can…”

“Do you have any words on the rumors?”

“Is it true you aren’t with skater Kasuki Yuri?”

“Where is he if you are with him?”

“What about the man in the bar?”

“Was competing against Yuri too much so you both decided to call it quits?”

“HE IS STILL WITH THE OTHER YURI, DAMMIT! This isn’t Victor’s competition!”

“He’s right, I won’t comment on my personal life. I will say to look at my team closely. I expect great things from this event.”

Though the moment seemed like a small group of reporters, the swarm that amassed in the few moments became a mass in the hall. Though the words seem to sink into a few, the remainder of reported pushed further in, each screaming a question Victor couldn’t hear. They pushed and pushed further, until Yurio was not in sight any longer. The grey hood melded in with the crowd, seizing up the sides until Victor’s back hit the wall behind him. Jolting, he shook himself, nodding with a wave to excuse himself. A crack near the edge became the saving call, and Victor ducked behind, the tips of his boots pattering away in the fadeout.

_I don’t usually like to treat the media like that, but that was…something else. _He thought, slipping his fingers in his coat as the tips curled around the hard plastic cover. The phone became a sore sight from the chaos of the moments before, and his fingers nearly pranced over the screen as he entered his passcode.

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Yuuri! Good morning! _

_(picture of Victor smiling in the camera)_

_The Free program starts soon. Almost mauled by reporters! I’m fine, though. How are you?_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_What time is it there? _

_(pic of a very sleepy disheveled Yuri eyes and the top of his head with Makkachin lounging on the couch in the background)_

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Yuri, did you stay up all night playing games?_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_I did not!_

** _To Yuri_ ** _:_

_Yes, you did. What time did you go to sleep?_

** _From Yuri_ ** _:_

_Ummm…. I don’t remember…_

** **

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Did you just get up?_

** _From Yuri:_ **

_Maybe… Makkachin slept in_

** _To Yuri:_ **

_Of course, Makkachin did it. I’m glad you slept, though. _

** _From Yuri:_ **

_Did you not sleep well?_

** _To Yuri:_ **

_I’ve missed you. _

“Oi, Victor!” Yurio called, snapping him from his phone to look up. His eyes gazed from the magenta fire sliding up Yurio’s otherwise black ensemble, smirking at the thought of all of his outfits from before. Blue eyes finally met the green, fuming venom like a potion brilliant but deadly. “Yakov wants you in the stands today.” Yurio stated, the curtness of the reply biting with anger at having to be the errand boy.

The alternative possibilities of becoming entangled with media again being less appetizing than being forced to sit in one spot for the event, Victor conceded with a nod, “Sure, tell Yakov I’ll be where he wants me.” He said, leaving Yurio slack jawed and waiting as he stepped up the arena stairs to the roped off area for athletes. Royal blue paint covered most of the ice stage area, the walls of the rink. Victor unfolded the chair, nodding to Mila and Sara. The exchange of pleasantries was almost robotic, still tinged with embarrassment from the news reveal the day before.

Victor leaned in, his coat coasting against Mila’s Russian team tacket sleeve, “Mila, this wasn’t your fault.”

Cheeks painted a scarlet as if she wore an A pinned to her the breast of her coat, “I- I didn’t know it would happen. I’m so sorry!” the curls shook with her head, red bouncing back and forth as she shrank further into her seat, leaning against Sara.

Palms turned upward, Victor shrugging as he sighed, “It’s just reports. Did they give you any trouble?”

“No, not really.”

“Good…”

“Emil is up now!” Sara clapped, the interruptions a needed change. Victor interlaced his fingers on his lap, turning back to the moment, the competition. 

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_Bated breaths, panting and wanting. The drag of hands along sweat stained skin, bumping over the outline of toned lean muscle. Out and in, chest rising and falling. Fingers weaving in around the other, the feel of cool sheets against the back of a hand. _

_ “Yuri, let me see you.” Victor’s voice, calm and coaxing yet drenched in salacious undertones beckoning Yuri to open and see-not just feel. His skin was a light, every touch flamed with passion beating against him, sparking the next jolt of sensation until Yuri was a forest of flesh, burning brightly. “Yuri-Yu-Yu-Yuuuuri.” He heard the call again, melting weakly to the deep tenor voice breaking in lust to say his name. _

_ And there he was. Victor. Silver strands drenched, falling down and waving with each thrust. Over him, between him…between Yuuri. Yuuri was for sure underneath Victor, and it warmed him at the thought. He felt the flex of thigh muscles running against his own. Something warm and deep within coiled and shot, his arousal twitching to the feel at each roll forward, stiffening without touch. Every nerve shouted to clench his eyes shut and arch his back, buckle underneath the pressure in the most exciting way Yuri ever felt. But the blue eyes, the clear water after a shore, anchored him to the moment, a lighthouse in sapphire drawing him close. _

_ Victor’s sheen pale frame, open and giving, flexing his core with every thrust as Yuri seared the sight. The tight abdominals, defined and strong neckline to his collarbone, all above him for his eyes only. Forward and back, in and out, overwhelming until only the sound of snapping hips and ragged begging heaves for air could Yuri hear. Tingles running up and down with every motion within as Victor’s body above drove him deeper and further to something that left him completely unbidden…something that…_

_ “Aha—ungh…V-V-Vii”_

Yuri woke to the spill; the living room empty besides him and the dreamy whines of Makkachin asleep on the floor next to his feet. His hands sought his waist band, thumbs curling against the stretchy fabric of his grey lounge pant to pull them forward. Dark brown eyes narrowed in the haze, filled with the want of the dream, but wrenching at the present sticky situation his dream left him in. _What am I, fifteen? _

Caught in the aftermath, Yuri didn’t catch the ball of brown fur moving in his peripheral. Paws clicked against the wood floor as Makkachin’s snout sniffed the way, leaving wet circular dew marks in his path. Sniffles continued as brown fur shook with each step, leading until a cold wet nose touched Yuri’s bare foot. Yuri flinched, drawing his feet up with a yelp.

“Makkachin. A-Ahh! No.” he relented, kicking his feet up under himself. Black disheveled spikes stuck every direction as Yuri toppled over the top of the couch, feet scrambling quickly from the living room to the bathroom.

With the click of a light and the turn of a faucet, Yuri made quick work of disrobing as steam fogged the sink length mirror. He balled his clothes tightly, the shirt wrapping his sweats in a cocoon of safety from his embarrassment. Whirls of white puffs floated from the drips of watering pattering against the porcelain, Yuri’s foot vanishing as he stepped into the tub.

_It’s been less than three days since Victor left… is this what happens after you’ve been…with someone? _Beads of water race in lines down his spine as his mind wanders to Victors hands, large but gentle tracing fingerprints into his spine, up and down like he was playing an instrument. Yuri was sure he knew every note. A jolt and a twitch, his right leg kicking on reflex sending a wakening splash into his face. Yuri blinked, shaking off the pressure once again building deep within. _We haven’t even done…everything. And I’m like this? _

The scent of musk and the clean residue of a wash lingered on his skin as Yuri emerged from the bedroom, nostrils flaring as the intake of Victor’s cologne. His fingers wound around his biceps, clinging to the white and red fabric wrapped around his torso. A smile lingered as he ran a finger over the top, tracing the letters embroidered in the front. Black joggers warmed his legs as he nestled back into the couch. Silver shined against the overhead light as Yuri pulled his laptop over himself, opening it with one hand as his other thumbed the screen of his phone.

** _From Victor_ **

_Yuri, did you fall asleep?_

_[link to Euros stream with English commentary]_

_Emil just started. _

_Oh, Wow! Cyberpunk! So inspiring!_

_I should give him some advice on footwork. _

_What do you think?_

_Yuri?_

_The one from Italy… Michele? Is next_

_The interpretation of the song is…strange_

_Mila said Georgi said it was lost love?_

_Georgi’s going up. _

_[ _ [ _https://youtu.be/dzPVHGE_RMQ_ ](https://youtu.be/dzPVHGE_RMQ) _ ]_

_I bet I could teach Makkachin to play the piano!_

_Oops! I didn’t catch Georgi’s score. Mila said he didn’t cry this time. _

_Chris... Wow! Nearly flawless. Did you see it?_

_He’s ready for Worlds_

_Yuri? You didn’t break your phone again? _

_Yurio is up next…_

_Are you watching?_

Fingers typed frantically, keys clicking as he pulled up the link Victor sent to the stream. Yuri’s eyes gazed down, black eyelashes fluttering as he looked himself over. The slit of a grin grew out of the corner of his mouth, his hand joining the other to hold up the phone at arm’s length. Mahogany brown hues twinkled in the screen of his phone, the rosy hint of a growing flush on his cheeks. Black hair fell as Yuri cocked his head, positioning the phone so the white and red jacket showed proudly in the frame.

And clicked.

**.**

.

.

.

** _To Otabek_ **

_You watching today?_

_No big deal if you don’t. Just wondering. _

** _From Otabek_ **

_I have the stream up. I’ll be watching. _

_Davai_

“Christophe Giaccometti with a score of 205.57 bringing his total to 303.97…He is currently in first place.” the announcer called in English now, the voice as void of detectable accent as possible. Green eyes veered to the jumbo screen, Yurio watching Chris blow a teasing kiss to the camera. _Better than the Final, I guess. _Yurio thought, the air steeping with tension and rivalry as he stepped up to the ice, blades sliding on the ice as he rounded over to the rink.

Yakov nodded, the brim of his hat tipping over, “Yuri, you’ve come this far. Don’t let the score get to you.”

“Show your beauty, Yuri.” Lilia insisted, but the words floated through a portal. The only sight Yurio saw was the vision of earlier. Unnamed, faceless reporters covering in, elbowing him until he could no longer see Victor. Shoved aside. _This whole thing with Victor is a waste. Who cares anymore? I’m not going to be Victor’s shadow! I’m not. I’ll prove it now. Victor’s dead. He won’t shine forever._

“Davai, Yurio!!!” the tell-tale soft voice called blithely. Yurio gripped the edge of the rink wall with a vengeance, his lip curling into a sneer as he saw Victor- heart shaped gaping smile so wide only lashes poked from his shut eyes. The white of his button down peaked from under his grey coat with each swipe of his arm as Victor waved wildly. Somewhere behind him Yurio heard the sweet sound of Mila’s voice, but nothing came to his view besides Victor.

Vict_or. _

_ Victor only has people who stand in his shadow. No matter what you do, Victor will always be first. You can break all his records and he’ll still be the living legend..._

“Last for the Men’s Free Program, representing Russia, Yuri Plisetsky!” the announcers voice boomed, forcing Yurio’s thoughts to the side. Black met white as his blades scratched the frozen surface. The magenta gloved hand lifted into the air, Yurio greeting the screeches and hollers from the arena, especially concentrated with his garrison of Yuri’s Angels giving their battle cries (which sounded more like cat cries to Yurio). Unwavering, one foot in front of the other, straw colored strands waving behind the glide, Yurio took position. Lids drooped over eyes, twitching as the magenta feather lifting from the lapel of his costume tickled his cheek. Yurio paused, each hand cast to either side of him in reverential poetry; beginning to write sonnets on skates.

Piano notes flittered up and down the key range as the song broke into its progression, the uplifting pace swift in a time barely expanded before the next note sounded. Blades turned in and outward to the motion, kicking up shards of ice as Yurio turned. _I’ll show them. I’ll show them I’m not a shadow. _Yurio thought, as the piano pushed onward through his turns.

“Grand Prix Gold Medalist Yuri Plisetsky plans his first jump as a quad salchow…” the announcer told. Blades scratched on the ice, lining on the back edge of the rink. Digging the toe pick as the other back outside edge started…the blur of blonde whipped round as Yuri vaulted to One…two..

_CLHSTSNN_

“It looks like Plisetsky was attempting a quad flip, but underrotated and fell. Quick recovery, though! Back up and moving into his next jump.”

_Shit! _Yurio cursed himself, the cold pain still gyrating through his tailbone from the fall. Frost shivered through the black mesh on the backside of his costume, though his eyes remained resolute, green steadfast and determined as he slid forward facing before jumping into the air.

“Perfect triple axel!” the announcer beamed.

_I’m not going to let one mistake ruin me. I’m not going to be the same. No one will win gold except me! _Air whooshed around, the magenta bleeding into the black as Yurio flew into a camel spin, whipping around effortlessly as the piano drove onward, the melody turning subdued before picking up. The music ran in time with the straight line step sequence, each movement precise on the dim of the riotous forte, unrelenting in tempo. _The pig might not be here, but that doesn’t mean I wont still win. It’s nothing to me. Georgi…that idiot Chris who always follows Victor around. He hasn’t won against Victor, he won’t win against me! _Yurio’s thoughts emanated rage in waves off of him as he sank into the sit spin, moving with the time to change foot before rising. A twist and a turn, blades kicking first in their wake as Yurio lined himself with the back edge again, planting a toe pick before rotating three time, his skate skidding into perfect landing with the rupture of applause from the audience.

“Triple lutz. Beautiful execution that we’ve come to expect from Yuri Plisetsky. Hard to believe is just fifteen years old.” The announcer added, his voice tainted with anticipation.

_You shouldn’t be watching from the stands, Victor. You should be on the ice. Instead, you chose a pig! _Light gleaned over Yurio’s head as he set up the next jump, the piano bouncing with the same resolve he himself felt in this moment, each fleck of light reflecting in his side braid. Another line up, another toe pick, and up in the air Yurio vaulted through three rotations-just slightly faster than anticipated as he landed forwards facing, hand skidding across the ice with his glide.

“Ooh, another flip. This time a step out with a hand on the ice.”

_Goddammit…what’s wrong with me? I haven’t missed a triple since the last time I fought Katsudon. This isn’t me. I’m not going to fall. I won’t… _Before his thoughts caught up to him, Yurio blurred in a whirl before landing with a flourish, the cheers and announcements creeping in the far regions of the mind. Only the piano, the tempo unrelenting and unforgiving, kept him weaving in and out of his step sequence, choreographed and refined to Lilia’s expectations. _Beauty, that’s what Lilia said. Define your beauty. My beauty wins! _

“Quadruple Salchow, triple toe combination. Very clean! The last quad is up. This is the quad that won him the Grand Prix final ladies and gentlemen.”

_Shktshhhhh_

“Perfect! Quad toe loop double toe loop! Absolutely amazing!” the announcers voice rang out amongst the cheers radiating throughout the arena. “Beautiful, that spin will earn a level four rating! What a performance!”

Toes wound over one another, spinning as the crescendo of the piano came to a fold and he glided forward arms extended out, heaving a breath like he forgot the last time he breathed. The deep pink flames billowed and brewed with each inhale and exhale, the design firing new as Yurio caught his breath. _I…I don’t know what happened at the end. _He thought, the blonde lashes opening with a peak as the composure of breaths became a steady rhythm, the green eyes fuming at the sight. Long thin hands clapped apologetically, the crystal of blue eyes glimmering in the light, a knowing smile across the face of the person looking right at him-in front of him.

_Victor_

Somewhere between the ice and the blue bench of the kiss and cry someone put Yurio’s jacket over his shoulder. His fingers gripped to pull the silk like fabric between a thumb and index, rolling the side around between. Though, the time seemed like a blink before his legs sprawled open over the perimeter of the metal seating, knees outright. The tip of the rubber tapped against the concrete floor as impatience rose, his foot flooded with the need to run.

“The score for Yuri Plisetsky is… 191.10… he is currently in second place.”

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“Where’s the camera for the stream?” Victor asked, sliding his fingers through his hair one more time, the wax forming a swirl at the end of his silver tresses. Blue eyes drifted down to his phone, viewing the message again for Yuri. The snapshot showed a smiling pink cheeked Yuri, hair still damp from what Victor assumed to be a shower, head tilted sideways and angled to reveal him wearing Victor’s red and white Russian Olympic jacket. _Yuri, I always thought I looked best in that jacket…but…I don'_

A man in all black called out over an earpiece in a language Victor didn’t know. “Over here, Mr. Nikiforov.” The man gestured diagonally “That is the camera you requested.”

“Spasibo!” he thanked, his voice ringing with a merry tone like the excitement of Christmas morning to a small child. Darkness clung to the surrounding area of the arena, leaving the lights beaming down on the ice as the only visibility. The rubber thudded along the concrete as Victor stepped forward, making his way through the maze of people standing by until his reached rink side.

Small circular eyes glared over at him, a grunt accenting the feeling of distrust behind the look. Rubber stretched as Victor peeled each guard off, planting them in the firm grasp of Yakov’s stubbed fingers, his eyes still baring down. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Vitya.” Yakov said. Victor grinned, tilting his head as the ever-reaching seas of his blue eyes told a knowing tale unspoken between them. Yakov scoffed, black fedora rustling to the shake of his head, “You are an idiot.”

“I’m in love.”

“You are an idiot in love.” Yakov spat.

Victor’s eyes softened to the noise; lips parted to begin to speak as the announcer cut him off. “Ladies and gentlemen, another round of applause for this years European Championship Men’s singles gold medalist…Christophe Giacometti!” the applause ricocheted throughout the auditorium as Chris’s rose hued and thoroughly satisfied face gave a salacious smile to tease the audience. His toe pick clicked forward as he glided to the exit, giving the view of his backside once more for the audience to ogle. More riotous screams burst anew as he reached the rink, blades clinking as he stepped down to the floor. Green eyes met blue, Chris giving Victor a wink and a nod as he stepped to retrieve his guard from his coach.

“We have one more performance in store for the gala this evening.” the commentator stated as golf blades sank just the right amount into the frozen surface as Victor stepped to the ice. “Please welcome our guest and five-time World Champion, Victor Nikiforov!”

The spotlight caught him in his glide as he pushed forward, arms outstretched and welcoming to the tremendous booming cheers bleeding from the stands. Silver strands swept behind him as he curved the length of the ice, his simple black button-down ruffling in the motion. The black sheen on his pants gleaned in the white light as he made his way to the center of the rink. Planting a golden toe pick into the ice, his arm lowered to hold at the center of his waist, hair washing forward like a silver spun waterfall as he bowed his head.

_Yuri, this weekend…all I’ve wanted to do is to be by your side. Instead, the reporters, the fans on the internet, the media have tried to drive us apart. Fueled by deception from another source, they tried to burn us. But I will show them they can’t break us. _

_ I will show them our love. _

“Victor Nikiforov will perform his student Yuri Katsuki’s freeskate, Yuri on Ice.” The announcer stated, his calm voice drawing a quiet over the crowd as the beginning notes rolled forward, lifting higher to the new heights of budding love. Peeling back the new petals of discovery, Victor reached his hands upward, his head following as his arms opened to the song and experience. Gold blades scratched as the step sequence moved along the trail of piano notes. The moves were strong and steady, yet vulnerable in a way only Yuri could recognize. The skates turned and lined with the song, pulling forward for a perfect quad toe loop- double toe loop combination.

“Victor said he wanted to skate the love he learned from his season as a coach.” The announcer said.

_The love we created all those months ago. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year! Yuri, you’ve changed, but so have I. Life and love. _Each piano note took Victor to a deeper point of love, his mind showcasing the creation of the movements weaving and curving in the present. He remembered showing Yuri every jump, the look of sheer determination and enthusiasm marked in the deep orgasmic shimmer of his brown eyes. The hints of amber, red, something obsidian that Yuri’s eyes took depending on his mood. Effortlessly, like skates were wings and he walked on clouds, his gold skates carried him through the steps, the teetering piano notes pushing him forward through the quad salchow.

The weaving piano notes traveled over one another and transitioned into their deep lull as Victor extended his arms outward like a bird who was uncaged for the very first time, silver strands shimmering in the flow as he tilted his head back. _We aren’t thread, we are iron… heat will only make us grow. My Yuri. My love. My beautiful prince. _

The length of Victor’s leg stretched fully behind, his back arching behind in transition from the outside eagle and into the beautiful ina-bauer as he wound upward and pushed out with the expert of a champion. Blades swerved and scratched the surface, bits of frost flying as he vaulted from forward facing into a triple axel, the ice swishing beneath him in the land.

Working through the rise of the piano as it created the serenade definition of their love, Victor skated onwards, twirling and spinning in time with the sound. Every movement, every jump wrote their story in ice. Yuri, you_ aren’t just my romance. You are the strength of love, the security. My love for you is beyond my wildest imagination. Deeper than oceans, more brilliant than the sky. You’ve shown me something I never thought possible. That I could be just Victor. That was enough._

Violin echoed the piano’s resolution on strings, pulling forward the crescendo on the high pitch of love exalted. _I’ll never stop loving you. I’ll never leave you. Yuri, stay by my side and never let go. _The step sequence ushered in his signature move. His quad flip to the sound of clapping from the audience on the land. Only this time it wasn’t just his own flip. It was theirs. His and Yuri’s flip.

As the piano flowed softer and slowed, closing out as the notes traipsed one over the other, beckoning the gentle nature needed in love Victor grew to understand, gold bladed wrapped one over the other as Victor spun. He raised his arms up and over, placing the last few steps pointedly in the direction he knew.

His ringed hand clasped over his chest, the other extended out languidly, reaching to the corner of darkness. Reaching out for the camera he knew was catching the stream.

Reaching, for Yuri.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Brown eyes glazed over at the beginning notes Yuri knew so well. The soles of his feet tingled in memory, the movements almost etching into his skin. Victor on the screen, the first three buttons of his black shirt left unbuttoned, revealing the beginning indentations of his pectoral muscle and collarbone. Yuri’s gaze crept over the luminescent pale skin; his breathing shallowed. Even from the diagonal point of view, every movement and rhythm keep Yuri’s eyes centered, focused. Eyes on Victor and Victor alone.

Each turn, kick, twist and step mirrored Yuri but in a uniquely Victor way. Where Yuri moved against the ice delicately, Victor stepped sure footed. Yet, it was the same story, and for the first time Yuri watched it unfold through Victor’s eyes. Blue eyes flittered, lost and searching, but unknowing as the piano notes began to unfold. They weren’t guileless, like Yuri; Victor knew what he was doing. Yuri knew the spark of magic glittering in the jump. Victor wasn’t jumping in search of something -- he was jumping for joy. He had found Yuri; the astonishment and glee Yuri remembered from the video of the Sochi banquet played out in the curve of his leg, dipping down to bring back up the breath Victor had been holding his entire life.

_I don’t know much about Victor’s past relationships… just…that he had them. I’ve only met the woman he sees sometimes for morning coffee at the café. And everyone at the rink, too. And that man at the bar…what was his name? I should have paid more attention…but I was… and then there’s Katya…Victor’s rink mate from Juniors…_

Yuri tried to put the pieces of past love into the movements before him. Sure, some probably shaped them, but the more Yuri watched the more he saw himself. Victor and him fighting together. Victor and him training together. Victor and him kissing…and….

As the violin and piano carried the music to the pinnacle moment, Yuri’s eyes widened. _The turn along the back edge, Victor’s going to…_ Yuri thought, his body leaving the couch as he thrusts upward in time with Victor’s four rotations. The scratch of his blade hitting the ice with a flourish sounded at the moment air puffed beneath Yuri in his land down atop the couch cushion. Victor and Yuri together.

Gold blades glinted, reflecting into the camera with each spin as Yuri watched Victor rotate through the final movements. Tears welled in the ducts of his eyes, seeping down his cheek until they left a dark mark on the collar of Yuri’s shirt. There Victor was, panting and arm stretched out, the tip of his finger pointed straight into the camera.

And Yuri knew. This was his and Victor’s love.

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_The grey suit, perfect choice! _Victor thought, his fingers running over the dark grey satin, cooling his tips from the touch. Fabric swished with the walk, the fit of his pants not even creasing to every flex of muscle as he stepped through the wide door into the banquet area. His smile retained its veneer; it was pristine, jovial even, while his eyes held in a sigh Victor could only hope to expel after leaving. _I don’t know why Yakov said I had to go to the banquet… I could already be on a flight back to see_

_BZZZZ_

_ “_Yuri!” Victor beamed; his hand now wrapped around the phone vibrating into his palm. One click and he repeated into the speaker, “Yuri!” he said, retreating back through the wide door to the hallway. Each press of his dress shoe into the mundane beige carpet left an imprint as he stepped forward, leaving soft excited breaths into the silent airway between phones. “Yuri?” he now questioned, alert creeping on his skin as the hairs on his neck raised. “Yuri, are you alright? Did you see it?... I didn’t know if the stream had cut out… or did you fall asleep, again? Ah, damn, and after I had the setup and…”

A rasp creaked through the lines, the broken cough of a voice stretched thin and dry as if they had only just received the gift of speech. “I…I saw...” Yuri choked, the remnants of tears still audible in his voice, “You d-did…my…your…you reached.”

The bored blank blue eyes lit with the spark, burning from coals to crystals of a joy Victor only came to know in these moments with Yuri. “Yes, I did.” He spoke gently, his shoulder resting against the yellow painted wall. He rolled over, his jacket flowing in the turn as he tried to shield his conversation from passersby. “What did you think?”

A discernable laugh of incredulity came through the speaker, causing Victor’s mouth to draw into a smirk. “What did I… you’re Victor Nikiforov! And you did my…” Yuri stammered, the whirling trails in his overwhelmed mind coming through the phone along with the endearment. “It was…there’s no one better than you, Victor. I’ve never been so surprised and that includes your first Olympic gold.”

Tips of his index, middle, and ring brushed against his lips as Victor gasped, “Wow!”

“I-I wish you were here now.” Yuri said, almost thoughtlessly as he hitched a breath.

A tone husk and barrow, dripping with temptation rolled off Victor’s tongue as he dipped his head down, grinning, “Oh, really?”

“Ah—uhm, Ye- Yes!” Yuri’s voice dissolved from unsure to resolute on the last word. Victor could almost hear the determination in his tone, causing enough of a stir in his gut for him to shift, pulling one leg over the other bashfully.

“What would you do if I was there, Yuri?” Victor’s voice walked the line between play and seduction; deep, low but lilting. _Oh, Yuri…you have no idea what you do to me. It’s so hard to contain myself when you say these things. _Thoughts aligned with the images in his mind. The wild, seductive, but somehow sincere and saccharine essence of Yuri’s Eros starring in so many roles -- Victor’s fantasies all played in one reel, only broken by Yuri’s stammers of Uhms, and ahh’s on the line.

“Ahhh…umm… I’d do…or- I’d let you do…ummm.” Yuri’s shuffling through the beginning of ideas was enough to drench Victor in the possibilities.

_A month of intimacy with Yuri barely scratches the surface. I’ve been letting him set the pace…but maybe he’s more ready than I thought? _Victor’s thoughts latched onto the words, driving him from the banquet to their bedroom. “Yuuurii,” he pressed, his voice low enough to earn a squeak so high from Yuri he could picture the burn stretched across his cheeks.

“V-Victor!” Yuri began…trailing off in the distance.

“Oi, Victor.” A voice cut him off from the rest of what. He turned, aggravation melting into curiosity as he spotted Georgi with his hand tucked in his usual black and white suit. “Yakov’s been looking for you.”

“Ah, alright.” He sighed, his sliver hair sweeping in his nod as he lifted a finger in the air to wave Georgi a reply. Watching Georgi fade back into the crowd behind the doors, Victor turned back over to try to hear the last words of Yuri’s voice. “Yuri, I’ll be home tomorrow. You can show me what you want then, right?”

“Ah-er… I can try!”

“Good!” Victor beamed. A few final words of farewell and he pocketed his phone safely in the breast of his jacket, the sheer grey lining gleaning against the overhead light. He tucked his feelings alongside his phone, patting the outside of his suit jacket. Hands ran down the fabric, smoothing any sight of imperfection as Victor walked into the room. Eyes flinched at the harsh lighting above, his pupils dilating to let in the hazy yellow tones cloaked over everyone now.

“[Victor. Where the hell have you been?]” Yakov’s usual irritable drawl growled, causing Victor to turn, curious at him using Russian. Bangs swept beneath his ears, shining silvery silk as he played a coy smile to Yakov’s chagrin. He scowled, flipped up grey hair shaking as Yakov scoffed. His arms reached up to readjust his fedora square on his head, lining up with his square jaw as Yakov settled himself.

[I just got a call from Yur-], Victor stopped at the tightness of Yakov’s jaw.

[Fine.] Yakov said, his tone final. Victor lifted a finger in reply, but halted mid-air as Yakov walked off. Curious blue eyes watched Yakov get swallowed into the belly of the crowd, no doubt to meet with some official or other. Victor’s eyes lingered over the mob, all covered in the yellow haze of the lights. Somewhere in the distance he heard Mila’s high-pitched cackle. A waiter knocked into one of the linen covered tables, almost spilling his tray as he cursed in French and apologized in English to the people he tried and failed to bypass. The scent of sweet, savory, and most likely over-salted appetizers wafted through the air; the same perfunctory food as was customary at one of these banquets. _ Not surprising. _Victor thought from his vantage at the sidelines.

“Waiting for me?” a voice drew him from his observations as blonde tufts of hair came into view. Champagne bubbled rose gold in the two flutes fixed between Chris’s fingers on either hand. He extended one toward Victor.

“Of course. I haven’t properly congratulated you on your gold.” He said, taking the glass with a nod. Victor tipped the flute back, the bubbles fizzing on his tongue with the sip, bringing back some vigor to the monotony of another banquet.

“Merci!” Chris said, sliding closer until the side of his black dress pants knocked against Victor’s grey. “Though it’s not really satisfying unless you’re under me.”

“That would be a change.” Victor played along, matching the sensuous voice tone for tone.

“Mhm.” Chris nodded, taking a sip. “So…I get invited, right?”

Victor gawked, eyes widening as he repeated, “Invited?”

“Your wedding, Victor. Don’t tell me you forgot your fiancé?”

Victor giggled as the realization settled in, “Ah – of course not, and yes, you will be invited.” _Everyone keeps asking about the wedding…._

The remaining chatter came through another few champagne glasses and laughs. Somewhere between the time they began chattering, they moved into the heart of the banquet, gathering a few other skaters to their group. Mila stood next to Victor now, the blue hem of her skirt swishing as she bellowed in a fit of laughter, catching her stomach in her hand. Across from him, Victor saw the furies rise atop another skater’s head, his purple eyes transfixed on the young woman in front of him.

“Mickey! Don’t look like that. We’re just talking about a road trip.” She said, her long brown hair swaying behind her as she turned to point her finger at Mickey.

“There’ll be other people on a road trip, Sara!”

“This is why you aren’t invited!” Sara retorted. The screech of Mickey’s despair was heard somewhere in Victor’s mind, but his attention was no longer on the people in front of him. A word caught him from the charade in front of him, and he twisted his head to find who the speaker was. His eyes settled on a thin man in a suit, stooped over a mess of blonde hair slumped in a chair.

“We believe you would be a prime candidate for sponsorship. We are acquiring a few new companies to get invested further into skating….” The man’s thin lips matched his thin frame, lurching over Yurio as he whittled away on his phone.

“Yeah, yeah… that other man gave me your card that one time…” Yurio dismissed, though his brows furrowed at the words. Victor approached wearing the gold medal winning smile, painted with years of showmanship. His hips swayed as he got closer, his jacket swaying with the nonchalant walk forward, though his ears opened to hear every word.

“Ah, yes… he informed me of that.”

“Informed who of what, Yurio?”

Yurio shot up at Victor’s voice, struck with a misery in his green eyes unfamiliar to Victor. With a quick huff, Yurio shrugged off Victor with distaste rolling off his shoulders, eyes falling back to his phone. “Just some asshat who gave me a card when I went to get your stupid coffee.”

“So, you have our card!” The man sang, his twig like fingers wrapping together in his clap.

“No, I shredded it.” Yurio retorted.

“Oh well…please, consider…” the man all but groveled in the moment, his short dark hair shaking in his plea.

“I think he’s considering, right Yurio?” Victor interrupted.

“Does that get him to leave me alone?” Yurio asked.

“I believe it does.” Victor stated, his mouth drawn straight though his eyes still shimmered. He drifted his gaze to the man, meeting his brown eyes evenly.

“It does.” The man said dryly.

“Then fine, I’ll consider it.” Yurio said blankly, whatever on his phone still more appealing than eye contact.

The man shuffled in his coat pocket, producing another white card and placing it on the table. “Great! Spasibo! Keep in touch.” The man said as he turned, only getting a nod of blonde locks swaying in reply. His beady eyes met Victor’s; a wordless exchange shared between them before he disappeared into another wave of people.

“I don’t care what Yakov says, I’m not taking that sponsorship.” Yurio says flatly, his fingers white from the grip around his phone.

“Good. You shouldn’t.” Victor replied, his eyes still fixated on where the man vanished from sight.

All of the formalities checked off finally, Victor gave his final congratulations and goodbyes. The tips of his shoes tapped speedily as he fled the banquet. Fingers dipped into his breast pocket, pulling out his phone and gazing down. The typical hotel lobby scenery fell unnoticed; he kept his eyes downward until the automatic door parted. Victor stepped out.

Wind whipped against his cheek, bruising his pale complexion pink in with the ferocity of the blows. A flick of ash burned orange in his view, and he turned just in time to see the thin man flick the butt onto ground. “I was wondering when you’d come out here.” The man said, the docile tone of earlier replaced with a gravelly rough sound. Puffs of white billowed as he hacked a cough, sputtering a curse into the air. “Fuck, it’s freezing even here. Not as bad as Russia…but still.”

“What does he want?” Victor asked stiffly. The light caught his blue eyes, cold and steeled as he looked at the man spewing another cough into the air.

“Just to send a message.” The man said, shrugging. “I’m hoping you got it, right? Fuck, should be obvious by now. You can’t be as dumb as you look.”

“What’s that?” Victor asked, his aggression only masked by his passive display. Where he stood, he towered over the man in height and stature.

A cruel smile curled on the thin lips, stitched in the venom Victor knew was oozing between, “He wants Victor to be Victor.”

Those words, once the sweet salvation of his journey to Yuri, now dug into Victor’s gut, pulling blood out as it staked him to the ground. _Why those words? Why not anything else? _He thought, but he knew. He knew that those words would hurt the worst. Twist in the memory so Victor complies. Yet, in that moment, all that he could think of as not the airport from his nightmare, but the beach and Yuri finally confessing his struggle to let anyone close to him. _All I had to do was be me. _

_ “_You have your reply with my exhibition skate. Tell him that.”

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** _From Victor_ **

_We’ll be in St. Petersburg around noon. What do you want to do? _ _😊_

** _To Victor_ **

_I want to skate._

** _From Victor_ **

_Yuuri _**_☹_** _I haven’t seen you in three days…_

** _To Victor_ **

_I haven’t skated in three days_

** _From Victor_ **

_Okay! Meet me on the bridge._

** _To Victor_ **

_I..umm…got lost last time I tried_

** _From Victor_ **

_Makkachin knows the way!_

The roll of the bus along the cement overshadowed the heaves of breath as Yuri ran forward. Skates weighed his backpack down, but his feet couldn’t sit still any further. Black sneakers thumped into the sidewalk, his black lycra pants ruffling together with every jog forward. Straps fashioned over his torso, buckling Yuri’s backpack as it shifted into the run, only his blue coat to shield from the arctic chill of Russia. His thoughts traveled to something Victor said once during practice, _there’s a place you can’t reach, unless you have a dream too large to bear alone. _Each rush forward got him closer to where Victor said to meet him on the bridge, Makkachin bursting with a woof as he ran alongside, guiding. In the distance, two small frames leaned against the bridge bars, but Yuri saw it: silver hair washing in the wind, blue eyes flickering as Victor turned, his gray coat catching in the wind. Brown eyes widened, his blank tendrils that now snuck passed his ears waving sporadically behind him as he gasped to meet the eyes, his cheeks creasing under the frame of his glasses as he smiled. _We call everything on the ice love. _

Blue eyes drowned in love as Victor beamed, his arm reaching in a wide wave as the drama of Euros dissipated in the warmth of Yuri’s doe eyes. “Yuri!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a short chapter! Thanksgiving made writing time a lot smaller this week but I wanted to give something to you all. Thank you so much for all of your wonderful comments. They keep me going when I feel like giving up on this story. :)


	19. Chapter 19

Two things weighed on Yuri’s mind. Of course, the word “whore" still rambled inside his mind, rolling over the last few waves of anxiety from the past weekend. No matter what, Yuri didn’t know what to think of being called… that. Even more, though, were the words Katya last said to him before the taxi pulled up. It wasn’t something that struck him in the moment, but the longer he was away from it, the more the words ached like a dull pain, a reminder not to touch.

Practice was in full swing since the meeting on the bridge. Yuuri’s lips tingled with memory of the touch of Victor’s against his, the softness molding into spaces of his heart he didn’t know were even needed to be filled. The taste of a lip balm Yuuri hadn’t dared to look up the price of sliding over his mouth still lingered as he himself slid across the frozen surface. As he circled, the air catching pieces of hair and splaying it behind him, his mind wandered once more over the day he met Katya.

_The sheer cold weighed on him, slashing through bone to freeze even Yuuri’s organs. Somehow, though, the bitter chill felt warmer than before he arrived, or at least his anxiety melted with the Victor’s voice assuring him of their bond. Clicks of a pointy heeled shoe tapped behind him, louder and louder, intermixed with the clanging of a door and some fierce words in Russian Yuuri could only assume were curses- and he wasn’t getting his translator app out to check this time. He turned, brown eyes looking over the person who knew Victor before his time. Even before he saw Victor glide over the ice, his silver ponytail falling like a waterfall before his awestruck eyes; Katya knew him. Something about that itched his bones with curiosity, but he didn’t know how to ask. He just breached an awkward smile, his lips begging to crust with chap from the weather in Katya’s direction. _

_Katya smiled back easily, but her eyes searched for something as they darted back and forth rapidly between his own. “Vitya hasn’t said anything about…before you…has he?” Katya asked, her fingers circling in gesture. _

_Vitya? He heard Yakov call him that- what was it? Pet name before. No one else. “Ah, erm, no.” Yuri said, the friction if his hands rubbing together warming his tips as it curbed his anxiety, “but- ah…it’s not because he didn’t .. I mean I said I didn’t want to kn-…but that was before..”_

_A shush pushed from Katya’s lips relaxing the jumbled words fraying from Yuri’s overwhelmed mind. She extended a long, curled hand to rest gingerly on his shoulder/ “Hey, it’s okay. Slow down, sweetie. No one will get between soul mates. I was just curious, that’s all.”_

_“Soulmates?”_

_Katya guffawed before her body shook in a hearty laugh, her shole weaving from the motion. “Well, of course! You two aren’t just sweet together.” She assured, her placing her hand against her chest in exaggerated exclamation, “There’s more. I saw it in bits and pieces throughout the Cup of China- that kiss! And in the kiss and cry…but when you two skated that exhibition in the finals… that was it. I knew. You were both pulling on the same thread. Fate. Soulmates. Whatever you wanna dress it up in drag as, you two are meant to be.”_

Katya plugged her number in Yuuri’s phone and told him to keep in touch. Made him promise to show him his moves on the pole. The memory of it still flagged red a crossed his cheeks but with each somber circle he lapped over and out in a figure eight with his skate, the less it carried with him.

Nestled in the back into the rhythm of ice and blades carving over and over again the memories of he and Victor on the ice together, Yuri found himself. Even so, the weight of the words lay heavy on his chest. The silver blade drug into the ice as Yuri whipped to the back outside edge, digging a toe pick to assist and..

_Splat_

The ice burned into his face, but the embarrassment burrowed deeper. “Yuri!” he heard Victor call; his voice soaked in amusement with just a twinge of concern. Warm arms scooped him from the icy floor. Once settled upright, Victor’s snaked an arm around Yuri’s waist as he glided them forward, tucking his chin in the crook of Yuuri's neck. “What are you thinking?”

Startled in the panic of translation, Yuri balked, eyes rampant and searching as he began to stammer, “Erm…well….I was thinking about the meaning of the word…” and then he said it, or at least sounded it similar enough to the Russian word to illicit gasps even from Yurio, along with a few straggling skaters.

“Where the hell did you hear that, Katsudon?!?” Yurio’s voice cracked as he spoke, a venom building at the words.

In an instant, the arms that wrapped around Yuri spun him round until he stared Victor, his doe eyes drowning in confusion at the face. If a color could poison, Victor’s irises were filled with venom. His eyes that seemed like the summer ocean froze in an instant. A chill ran down Yuri’s spine, each frosted nerve causing him to shiver until the fabric of his pants shook. “What happened, Yuri?” Victor asked, his voice maintaining its usual lilt, with his mouth even wide in an open grin, albeit without the heart shape.

“Oh…ummm…just when I saw the magazine… it was in Russian and I was trying to pick up the translation on my phone and it overheard someone say…and it translated what it…”

“I know what it means.” Victor’s voice was emptied of joy, the low straight voice sending shock into Yuri’s mind.

Quiet settled over the rink, ominous and grating. Trying to gulp, it stuck in his throat and Yuri choked on the dry air, the rasping cough cutting into the silence violently. Suddenly, the heat of feeling all eyes on him blushed pink down his neck and shoulders. His thin fingers cupped the back of his head, and Yuri planted his eyes on the ground. _So, that’s what it really means. I’ve been trying to tell myself maybe I was mistaken… Victor’s looking bad…because of me…just like I feared after he-I-we proposed… and I was feeling better after Katya and everyone there…_The shoe that Yuri had held up for the weekend finally fell, stomping into what little headway he made after trying and failing to find sanctuary in skating alone.

The gleam from the gold blades reflected the light in Yuri’s eyes, lashes sticking from the beginning web of tears as he blinked against the intrusion. “Let’s just go home, Yuri.” Victor suggested, huffing an exasperated sigh.

Home-where Yuri’s been stuck all weekend. Never in his life had Yuri been unable to skate or dance when he needed to, but this weekend left him shackled home. His face twisted in defiance, the tip of his button nose scrunched as he spat, “No!” The word filled the speechless room with a strike.

“Well, I’m ready to go.” Victor replied, arms folded over each other, so his shirt crinkled from the press.

“Go without me.”

“You don’t know how to get home…”

“Dammit, will you two shut up!” Yurio interrupted, arms flailing in frustration as he leaned against the side of the rink.

“Yurio, why are you still here?” Victor asked, his oblivious smile denying any thought that Yurio existed in those moments.

“I…. it doesn’t matter!”

_I just keep making Victor look bad… _Yuri’s thoughts overshadow any more of the exchange between Yurio and Victor, blade scratching as he skates to the end. Fingers curl hastily around his blade guards, and he drags them off before tearing out of the rink.

.

Victor blinked. Batted lashes sprung together and apart as he tried to gather the last few seconds into a logical order. _Someone called Yuri a…no wonder he was all over the place this weekend. I need to get Yuri out of his head…_ Victor thought, blades scuffing over to the rinks edge. His fingers clasped against the edge as he stepped up, finding himself almost eye to eye with Yurio’s indignant glare. Time to give into Yurio’s anger passed when the door slammed, Yuri disappearing into the hallway. With a huff, he grabbed his guards, ignoring the groan gurgling behind Yurio’s clenched teeth. A flick of hair swaying the other way left Yurio in his shadow.

“It’s barely been a month. If you can’t keep the pig under control, why do you even have a ring?” Yurio bit, the words aimed to cut, but Victor didn’t even look back. He left.

Without anyone to ask, Victor scanned the area, searching for footprints of where Yuri ran off to. Most of the arena only carried ghosts of previous activities as Victor went by, the darkened rooms casting empty shadows in the hallway despite the large windows. _Yuri’s looking for somewhere to hide to calm down. _As Victor tried to go through the possibilities, a wetness nipped at his fingertips. With a start, he looked down, meeting the deep brown eyes and wiggling snout with a smile.

“Makkachin!” he sang the name, wrapping his fingers in the thick tendrils of fur to shake them. “Do you know where Yuri went?” he asked, mostly rhetorically, but with a woof and a bounce, Makkachin rushed in the directions of the locker-rooms.

Paws scratched at the door, the heaviness too much for Makkachin to push alone. Victor gave a soft pat of praise before pressing his hand to the door, a creak sounding in the room as it swung open slowly. Blade guards clunked against the cerulean blue tile, too loud for Victor to remain unknown as he entered the room. Each locker remained untouched save for one, and Victor knew the combination to the lock well.

Behind the wooden bench, black jogger clad knees poked up, camouflaging the shagging strands of hair that protruded out where Yuri tucked his head. His arms hugged around over his shins, making him shrink almost beneath the large blue lockers. With a step, Victor sat himself in the edge of the bench. Fingers went to work unlacing his skates as he spoke, keeping his eyes fixated on his task, “Well, this wasn’t how I thought coming home would be…” Victor said, the end tinged with a pout and a tease.

Yet, the words kept on the surface of Yuri’s thoughts, barely sinking to the depth of where his despair had taken him. “Mhm…” he muttered through his legs, keeping his head down.

Each skate leaned against the floor next to Victor as he worked to knead at his foot and ankle, processing how to continue. His thumb jammed into the sensitive part of the soft arch in his foot, causing him to wince. He shot up and looked over at the defeated form in front of him. Gently, he skooched down until his knees touched Yuri’s “Yuri…the tabloids missed something…”

The corner of a brown eye peaked out of the sides of his arm. “What?”

Victor’s fingers rounded over Yuri’s forearms, smiling at how just slightly paler he was to Yuri’s olive cream skin. “Everything Yuri on Ice means.” He said simply.

The warmth returned to the brown hues, swirling in a pool of dazzlement as Yuri’s mouth gaped slightly. What Yuri on Ice meant? Yuri on Ice meant finding each other. Yuri on Ice meant fighting through everything, including this. Yuri on ice meant not being alone. Yuri on Ice meant showing the world who they were, together. Yuri on Ice meant love. Yuri knew Victor showed that when he skated it at the gala, but here, seeing the sincerity in those blue eyes-only inches away, it wiped away the final doubts. No matter what madness Victor brought, he also was Yuri’s salvation. He didn’t know how many times they would each save each other. But if like he thought, and like Katya said…they were soulmates, it would be infinite.

Yuri noticed Victor’s mouth draw in a line, the tension of an answer starting to tense his muscles as he gave Yuri’s forearms another squeeze. Yuri’s eyes trailed down from Victor’s mouth, over the sleeve of the shirt clinging to the curve of his bicep, down to the refined but still so strong fingers that Yuri felt naked without touching him all weekend. All of the dreams still fresh in mind, his thoughts traveled to what Victor said upon entering the locker room, and a feint cheeky grin creeped on the side of Yuri’s mouth. “What did you think about?” Yuri asked feigning coy.

“Hmm?” Victor’s head shakes as he assesses the change of pace.

Yuri’s arms unwind from his legs, palms pressing to the cold tile as he resets himself to his knees. Within a few inches forward, his waist wiggled between Victor’s thighs, the fabric running along the bit of skin poking up from the rise of his shirt. His fingers stretch to thumb the edge of Victor’s neckline, and Yuri touches the tip of his tongue to the top of his lip as he asked, “Coming home…what did you think about?”

Victor finds himself with a feint rosy hue over his nose as the understanding dawns on him. His hand finds Yuri’s jaw, fingers tracing over the bone as he pulls Yuri’s face forward until his lips press against Yuri’s. “This.” He breathes the word back into a new kiss, lips holding until he feels Yuri smile.

“That’s all?” Yuri giggles, a tease from his lips Victor’s only seen on the ice.

“Oh, what did you think of…”

“A lot.”

The cab ride home blurred between lights fading in and out over their eyes as they kept locked to each other. Slews of kisses and barely touches kept them sated long enough to pay the cab driver and find themselves upstairs through the door, Makkachin barreling in behind them. The soft pats of paws on the wood floor intersperse between the smacking of lip and huffs of breath. Warm lips pressed against the cold cheeks; Yuri still windswept from the short drudge into the complex. Not wanting to lose contact, Victor’s hands fumble with the zipper of Yuri’s coat.

Hands skimmed beneath the coat to seek Yuri’s waist, bringing him closer until Victor could peel the coat off. It tumbled to the floor, forgotten as Victor walked them through the opening to the living room with kisses. Each new lip led to a familiar but intoxicating sensation, and Yuri succumbed to the temptation, opening to allow tongues to intertwine with a heady taste seeping into his mouth and mind.

This time, though, Yuri’s not drunk. There’s no edge of inebriation for Victor to decipher through, trying to determine whether or not Yuri’s actually in enough control of his senses. The flush striped across his cheeks is only from passion, from wanting Victor as thoroughly as Victor wants Yuri. Yuri’s fingers latched to his upper arms, pulling him to keep up as the couch cushions hit the back of Yuri’s legs. They fell with a small whap against the sofa seat, laughing into the kiss as the drive for more amplifies.

Hips slot against hips, and Victor rolled his hips into Yuri’s as he delved back to his mouth. The ribbons of pink pout tie into one another, creating a bow that Victor felt was ready to be unwrapped. With a break, he pulled up, looking down at the unraveled face beneath him. Swollen and reddened lips, breaths panting deep rhythms, black hair splayed over the blue cushion. Yuri is a delicacy. One Victor wants to savor bit by bit-and even then, he doubts he’ll be satisfied for everything Yuri is.

Diving back down, silver fringe sweeps over the side of Yuri’s face as Victor's hands roam. Waist, arms, thighs, neck… anything of Yuri’s he can squeeze. The heat coiling inside was enough to melt. Within the covering of clothes, Yuri saw his dream in motion. Victor above him, looking at him with a love caught on fire. With the snap of Victor’s hips, Yuri felt the trapped arousal running over his. The sight and sensation all encompassing, and Yuri wants it. Now. Canting his hips upward to move into the roll, Yuri let a gasp slip as he felt the hard press of Victor’s length between his legs.

Feeling the rise of jolts with every thrust, the engorgement of Victor’s own arousal straining in the band of his briefs, he pushed up and away. Fingers move to the band around Yuri’s waist, slipping the tip beneath the elastic only to feel a hand grab firmly to stop. 

“Don’t stop. Please. V-Vic..Vic…” Yuri’s begging shot straight to his center, twitching at the broken sound of his name. Though curiosity taps in the back of his mind, he all was too happy to oblige.

In this moment, with the clothes protecting him from having answer any of the anatomical questions plaguing his mind, Yuri can imagine. Not only imagine but feel at the same time. It’s comforting and arousing, the friction sending jolts throughout his system at each thrust. Victor dipped down to bring their mouths together, lips threading one over the other as Victor pushes his arms beneath Yuri’s back holding them up as the kisses continue.

Time lapsed in passion. Kisses and rolls spurring them forward until they found themselves on the precipice of climax. Yuri mewled as Victor slides up once more, the build beyond the edge, sending convulsions throughout his body. Everything gyrates as the feeling of Victor between him and the image of what that means electrifies every nerve, reducing him to spasms and cries.

“I-I’m sorry…It’s just…” Yuri stammered, the rush of embarrassment at his forwardness filling him with anxiety as he goes over the passed few minutes.

Victor gives a wide smile as he gazes down at Yuri, and then to the wet spot formed on the top of his own grey sweats. “It was a good welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Runs at the deadline huffing*
> 
> I'm so sorry this is late!  
(Also, it's the last week of my husband's semester so I edited myself. Please forgive me.)  
It's another shorter chapter, I know. I'm hoping that I will be able to get some longer ones or at least posting a couple times a week as life settles down.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to GioGioStar for the recommendation for the Fake manga! Also, thanks to Derivative for giving me some great encouragement over the server, as well as so many of you in the comments!

Chapter 20

The scent of morning wafted heavily on the inhale. The crisp cold that settled into bones of the apartment tickled Yuri’s nostrils as he roused from sleep. Not yet ready to pry open the creases of his eyes and greet morning, Yuri fumbled his fingers into the sheets, feeling the silky fabric run smooth along his skin. Bit by bit, the sensations of wakefulness brought Yuri from his hazy recollections of dreams drifting in and out. He breathed a sharp breath. A pop, and suddenly pain rushed into his abdomen as Yuri’s eye snapped open.

Eyes met the tips of toes as Yuri tried to make sense of his surroundings. Burning pain coasted through his muscles, feeling pulled beyond what Yuri could ever dream of doing to himself, even in one of Victor’s hellishly grueling workout sessions. He liked those, anyways. As his eyes panned down, he noticed his feet were aligned with his face, and his thighs with his torso. Two hands wrapped around the base of Yuri’s thighs, imprinting into them with the force forward. Gold glimmered off one of the fingers holding him, and Yuri winced at the blinding light.

“Victor what are you doing?!?!” he finally yelled.

Poking between his legs, Victor’s fringe tickled the back of his calve, causing him to squirm. Blue eyes dazzled in the space above as Victor himself was framed in the opening from the top of his ankle all the way until his thighs touched. Victor settled his chin in the crux of those thighs, harboring just above where his blue boxer briefs clung. “You’ve been asleep for a long time.” Victor pouted, his bottom lip pouting as he tilted his head, as though to say “you know I’m adorable.” He continued almost breathlessly, “And in that position if you just stretched a little more…”

“Hanase!” Yuri yelled, realizing in his sleep addled mind he’d reverted to telling Victor to get off in Japanese. He wheezed a coughed, reevaluating, “I’m not even awake!”

Cocking a smirk, Victor pressed a kiss into the side of Yuri’s thigh and Yuri shuddered a breath as shivers ran up his spine. He felt a soft couple of pats against the mound of flesh on his rear. With a sprightly bounce Victor was up. “Ah! Alright! Time to get up, sleeping beauty!” Victor exclaimed, twirling on one heel to lean down. His lips found Yuri’s forehead and tasted the salt from last night’s sweat as he stole a morning kiss, eliciting a begrudging groan from Yuri.

“We aren’t going to the rink until later. Why do we have to get up?” Yuri asked, pressing his palms into his eye to clear the last dust of sleep.

“Because I missed you,” Victor shrugged, hips sashaying as he walked away. Yuri’s eyes stayed on the back of Victor as he walked away, watching the grey fabric sway with his walk as his sweatpants barely clung to his waist, curving up every muscle defined along Victor’s spine up to the pale expanse of his broad shoulders. Those arms that wove over Yuri as he slept, blanketing him with a strength he had missed those three days apart. _Victor and I have been together almost a year. I’m still not used to thinking he’s mine. Well, maybe he hasn’t been mine for a year…but… _Yuri thought, the frigid wood striking him with a chill as he swung his legs over the bed, planting his feet to the floor. A creak snuck out of the aging floor, causing Yuri to rattle with a shock at the sound. His feet took tempered steps over the wood, somehow apprehensive that his weight had caused the creak rather than the cold and the floor itself.

“There should be tea in the carafe, Yuri!” Victor called as Yuri ventured past the opening, finally clad in a white shirt and green sweats himself. For a moment, Yuri lingered in the corridor. Newspaper crinkled as Victor folded it over to the next page, eyes intent on scanning the entirety of events typed in black. His long fingers stretched into Makkachin’s curls as the dog rested his head on Victor’s lap. If ever Yuri would peg Victor for something, a morning print reader was not among them. Did anyone read the newspaper anymore? Maybe his father, if he had the time.

A smile peaked as his heart warmed, content with the vision of Victor nestled in the couch. Feet flinched as Yuri met the cold floor next to the large frost covered bay window, and Yuri made quick work of pouring some of the already prepared tea into a mug before seeking the heat of the living room.

Steam steeped from the mug as it clinked against the coffee table, Makkachin lifting his ears in enough curiosity to look over at Yuri, but not enough to move from the coveted position next to Victor’s side. Caught in the staring match between himself and Makkachin, Yuri huffed a laugh, soft tufts of hair falling over his eyes as he shook his head. He rounded the coffee table, finger rounding over the black panel as he lifted the Switch from its port, turning it on as relaxed back into the opposite end of the couch, Makkachin flopping his tail down on Yuri’s thigh.

The early morning passed in almost silence, save for the beeps of Yuri’s game as he fought through a series of foes. Each new sound jolted Victor from his readings, and he furrowed his brow as his eyes looked over at Yuri. Black hairs fell to where Victor could only make out the remnants of warm brown eyes fixated on the screen in front of him. A fresh bloom of pink blossomed on Yuri’s cheeks as his brows knit together, jaw clenched with a resolution Victor only saw in the rink. Too endeared to be perturbed any longer by the high-pitched electronic noises, Victor resigned to fold his paper, placing it neatly on the stool in front of him.

A suggestive tug and Makkachin found a new home to sleep on the floor as Victor scooted closer, sweats dragging along the starched blue fabric of the couch. Victor snaked him arm around Yuri, nosing his ear with the tip of his nose.

“What’re you doing, Yu-uri!” Victor sang, his voice filled with life and curiosity. Yuri’s fingers tapped against the black buttons, his thumb circling the tiny joystick as the hero character rode his valiant steed, knocking monsters to the side when they came too close. No reply. Not even a grunt in Victor’s direction. “Yuuurii…” Victor whined against his ear.

“What?” Yuri’s voice snapped harsher than intended, irritation begging at the corners of his lips as they sat flat.

“What are you playing?” Victor asked, the pout palatable in his childish voice.

“Ah, Dragon Quest…” Yuri said, his eyes centered on the screen.

“I am just now on my way to this city, called Gondolia, to find a ship so that we can sail across the ocean, but there’s a boss fight there and I’m worried I will be under-leveled, so I’m grinding…”, he went on, tilting the screen slightly so that Victor could better see the action. The hero and his compatriots were attacking a large, green-feathered bird creature.

Lost in the rhythms of fighting and traveling in the world, Yuri barely registered the feet padding off from the living room. His focus remained on the present target, and utilizing all of his tenacity for moving past this quest and this quest alone. He grunted when Victor plopped back down, jostling him during a tense battle.

Papers sift in the peripheral of his earshot, and Yuri barely registers the hmms, and oh’s from Victor as he continues playing. “Oh, wow! These drawings are great!”

Brown eyes grazed to the side, enough to take in the black drawn pages. “It’s a manga,” he explained, not noticing the title of the manga.

Victor’s eyes brightened animatedly as his mouth gaped in excitement. “Oh! I’ve heard of this!” he exclaimed, flipping through the pages, “What does it say? Hmmm…. I guess I’ll have to guess. What made you like it, Yuri?” he asked, lifting up eagerly for a response. All he received were the tapping sounds of the buttons as Yuri kept fixated on the game. Victor sighed heavily, glancing at the art of a man with dark hair talking to a man with light, “Oh well, I guess I’ll have to try to see for myself. There’s a man with black hair. And a man with light hair. They seem very distressed!” he said, folding over the page as he eyed Yuri. “They seem to be having a better conversation over here, and… oh!” Victor’s voice peaked and Yuri finally glanced over as Victor gave him a sultry glance, “I can see why you liked this manga, Yuri.”

Yuri balked, his eyes widening at the panel he knew very well. He tilted his head and read the Japanese title: Fate Volume 7. _Not that one! It’s a shonen-ai manga! _Red flooded his chest as he reached his hand to try and swipe the book from Victor’s clutches but fell against Victor’s lap instead. “It-It’s Mari’s! Not mine!”

“Really, Yuri? Why do you have it on your bookshelf then?” Victor asked, his finger running over the panel with the black-haired man behind the light-haired man while flesh to flesh in the throes of passion. Yuri’s eyes lingered on the light-haired man’s face of ecstasy as his throat ran dry.

“I-erm… I liked America! That’s where they are…”

“Annd?” Victor asked, looking down knowingly as Yuri turned over, hapless. Black strands sprawled over Victor’s thigh as Yuri looked up to meet the curious and intrigued expression on Victor’s face with stutters.

He gulped, “Ummm… they were fighting crimes….”

“Annnd?”

“What?”

“Which…character did you feel you…connected with more?” Victor said, flipping the page and running his finger over the two drawn figures, from the black haired main behind with his lips on the man beneath’s neck, over the man in front, his mouth open and awestruck with raw passion.

Any variable of moisture in Yuri’s throat evaporated as he watched Victor’s finger trace the open mouth of the light-haired man. “Uhm…that one…Ryo.” Yuri managed to say, his tongue sticking to the top of his mouth as he swallowed back.

Sapphire flickered deep dark blues in Victor’s eyes as his voice become rough with lust, “Oh…Yuri…” he started, dipping his head low until the tips of his hair flitted on the edge of Yuri’s cheek, tracing the red heating over them. Victor took a moment to savor Yuri’s face, the brim of his eyes poking a cherry color beneath the deep brown, open and inviting, albeit unsure. He drew his sight over the rounded cheeks and down his neck, stopping at the deep V of the white neckline. Victor smirked, feigning shock in his voice, “…are you wearing my shirt?”

.

.

.

.

Blades scratching into ice met Yuri’s ears before he pushed open the doors with an “umph,” and he smiled at the familiarity. Not only how accustomed he was to the rink already; the pillar of the Russian rink fading with each time he stepped onto the ice, but also with the arm that wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer until his red workout shirt slid alongside Victor’s mauve. The acoustics of the rink echoed slightly differently in the size compared to the ice castle, but the slides of blades clinking into the frost was always home.

“Yuri, do you want to work on your freeskate this afternoon? There were come things I noticed yest-“

_Sshstrrsplat_

Pulled from the conversation, both Victor and Yuri turned to the ice, hearing a sound Yuri knew all too well. Someone fell on a jump. Slowly, they approached closer to see red curls bouncing as Mila pulled herself up. She swore something in Russian and Victor muffled a chuckle, his hand capping his mouth.

Yuri mulled over the scene as he tipped the cap of his water bottle back, letting the water run cool over his tongue. _I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mila fall, not harsh like that…_ Yuri thought, capping his bottle and placing it on the rink wall, careful to miss the thin needle of an elbow propping Yurio up as he leaned against the wall.

“Mila looks serious.” Yuri stated as he watched herself line up another jump.

“Da.” Victor agreed.

Wind swept up tousling the blond strands as they waved beneath Yurio’s shoulder, catching onto his black workout shirt as Mila skated by. “Mila wants to win Worlds. She won’t with just two triples.” He explained.

The tip of Victor’s index rested against his lips as he processed, watching Mila try and fail to execute another quad toe. “Her choreography is always good. It’s not always about jumps, Yurio… You could learn-“ Victor began, halted mid-sentence by a thin hand on his mouth. 

A soft sigh fell from Mila’s lips as she glided forward, resting her elbows on the rink. The sleeve of her cropped shirt fell down her forearm until it nested in the crook of her arm. “I can’t win against a quad if I don’t have one.” Mila said, her eyes cast down along with her dower expression. “Even with a good component score I can’t…”

“Mila…” Yakov’s gruff assertive tone pulled everyone out of their small circle as he stepped between, his red coat sloshing in his stride. “Try it one more time. Leave the quad out…”

“But Coach…” Mila started to protest.

“I bet she can get it.” Victor said, his eyes determined with the spark of genius or madness, no one was sure until he started speaking. His forearms circled over each other as he leaned in close, “You just need more…”

Thoroughly enraged, the vein on Yakov’s forehead bulged purple and irritated as his eyes bugged out as he yelled, “Oh no-not again! Butt out and work on your free skate! I haven’t seen anything of it since you changed it!” Hidden by Yakov’s raised hands, Mila and Yurio skated off to the ice, their blades skittering beneath them as they went through their movements.

Victor tilted his head, the innocent grin taunting every word Yakov just spoke, “Ah, Yakov! It’s nearly finished.”

“Nearly finished?!? Just leave it alone!” Yakov’s voice splintered as his low tone peaked to an unheard oblivion, his hair straightening with the static of his own fury. “What do you plan to do today?”

“With any luck, Yuri.”

Black hair flipped as Yuri snapped his head up, his cheeks already burning a flush so bright it matched his shirt, “V-V-Victor!!!!” he stammered.

Silver hair swept as Victor leaned in, stealing a kiss against the streak of red on Yuri’s cheek. “We need to work on your stamina, neh Yuri?”

“Hah!” Yuri balked.

Lips brushed against the tip of Yuri’s ear as he spoke, “You wanted to add the lutz, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

_Schsclicnnk _

With a whip of a turn, the three looked to find both Mila and Yurio with their faces against the ice. Yakov smacked his hand against his forehead, “I’ve more skaters falling down than standing up! Will you just listen to me?!?”

Mila bit her lip, “But Coach Yakov…the exhibition…”

“Enough! One American with a quad isn’t better than your program! Get the program going or get off the ice! All of you!” Yakov bellowed, his voice so piercing the hair on Yuri’s neck straightened stiff. “And you,” his stubby index touched the tip of Victor’s nose, “I want your full free skate by Friday or you can take my name off as your coach for World’s. You may be his coach but you’re my athlete.”

For the first time, Yuri watched the thin line of Victor’s lip twitch before he smiled, his shoulder dipping down nonchalantly. “Sure.” Victor said. 

A few scuffles on the ice and everyone settled into the groove, the rink emptying of skaters until just Yuri and Victor remained. Bright yellow hues of the afternoon sun cast the orange glow onto the rink as dusk approached. Sweat clung to his clothing, gluing Yuri’s shirt against his back as he rounded over to the rink side. The stick of sweat brushed against the back of his hand as he pushed it over his forehead, removing the coarse stubborn locks that divvied his vision. Beyond his curtain of hair, Victor’s gold blades swiped against the icy surface as he skated into a three turn, his eyes as focused as the first time he saw Victor skating at the Ice Castle. _I haven’t seen much of his free skate, either. Bits and pieces, but he keeps changing it. Like, he’s not sure…but that’s not Victor. Victor always knows…._

“Wow… that was a good practice!” Victor said, bits of frost falling onto the floor.

“Neh, Victor…what’s your freeskate about?”

“Oh…ummm… It was about my life up until I left for Japan, but I had the arrangement changed…”

“Oh…what for?” Yuri asked. Blue eyes set intently on his own as fingers stretched to trace his jawline, Victor’s cold hands warming at the touch.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Victor asked, bridging the gap between until his lips finished what his hands left unspoken. Hands moved from face to hair as Victor threaded through the strands, pulling them as close as lips would allow. Mouths igniting the spark of fire that embolized and engulfed, Yuri reached his hand to cup over Victor’s forearm. Tongues traced along, seeking and finding each other as mouths opened to further dive and explore. Victor’s hand ran down from Yuri’s hair along his back until he was almost to grip his backside…

“Gross!” a voice snapped, loud and rash. Yuri froze where he was, mouth stopped mid motion as Victor drew back from the kiss. “Is this what you two pigs do here when no one is around?!?” Yuri could hear Yurio’s hiss before ever looking at his face. He turned with a sheepish grin, trying to begin some form of explanation when he heard an audible mew of a cat…and not the Russian Tiger.

There Yurio stood in the doorway, in one hand a beige pet carrier…and in the other…

A suitcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My goal is to get the next Chapter up before the holidays hit like a polar bear drinking a coke painted on a semi...but in the case that I don't please don't fret! I won't be abandoning this story! Also, happy holidays for all who celebrate! And for those who don't (well, I'd say happy early birthday Victor but that's apparently bad luck in Russia soo....also this would technically be his 30th birthday...)


	21. Chapter 21

“So, Lilia’s place is being fumigated?” Victor asked, crossing his arms over the other while he cocked his head to the side, questioning. Yurio’s impromptu interruption left him on the edge of a moment Victor did not want to lose, but something in Yurio’s demeanor was more vulnerable than usual. Without anything to fault, Victor decided to allow the thoughts still lingering on every stitch of skin beneath Yuri’s clothing and take the moment as it may.

Black soles scraped against the cement floor, Yurio kicked his feet as he gritted his teeth, “Yeah…” he said, drifting.

“And Yakov wants you to stay with me?” Victor clarified.

As the words seemed foreign to his ears, Yurio’s eyes widened, the greens catching the light and swirling around. “Well, he said to call Georgi…but I’m not dealing with that drama…he is in love again or whatever. You two are less gross...than that.” Yurio said, his face turned in disgust.

“Uh- thank you?” Yuri smiled. Like he said in the onsen, Yurio wouldn’t listen to anything Yuri said anyway. His eyes caught Victor’s, who seemed pleasant in his stance even as his fingers tightened around Yuri’s waist.

“Yakov and Lilia got a hotel, but I have…” his eyes traveled down to the purring crate in his hand. “So, I’m staying with you two! Got it!”

With the finality of Yurio’s tone, the decision already occurred. Reluctantly, Victor unhinged his fingers one by one on Yuri’s waist, and made quick work of gathering their items. A skate to shoe exchange and the zip of a duffel bag later, Yurio and Potya were secured in the back of the car, and they were off as snow started trickling from the sky.

Flakes of white puffs fell on the tip of Yuri’s nose, melting into a puddle as the thunk of the door sounded with his closing. Between the rink and the few stops, the snow that once dusted the streets now mounted in heaps, sloshing as the cars drove past. Each step through the trudge up to the doorway left imprints of their shoes in the new fallen snow. The flaps of his hat whapped against Yuri’s face in the wind as he shuffled his steps to try to adjust the large paper sack in his hand.

“Aren’t you glad we went shopping, Yuri?” Victor asked with an umph as his foot nudged the door open, the white of his rubber soles skidding along the bottom as he gave the final kick to swing the door open.

“Y-yes” Yuri answered, bits of white frost falling to his shoulder as he shook his head.

“By morning it’ll be completely white.” Victor sighed contently. Like seagulls, the breast of snow covering the city reminded him of this part of his home.

Trying to carry everything in one load, the stairs groaned with each step upward, low and aching from years of use not settling into the apartment complex. “Will we be able to practice if there is that much snow?” Yuri asked, his feet brushing the entrance until he stopped, flagged down by a very interested Makkachin for the contents of the brown package. His eyes fluttered over to where Victor and Yurio stood still, a confused look on their faces and Yuri wondered for a moment if perhaps he asked the question in Japanese instead. “Uhmmm, in Michigan if there was too much snow, they’d have warnings not to travel…” he tried to clarify.

Blue eyes moved from perplexed to adoring as Victor sweetened his face in understanding. Yurio rolled his eyes, hair fluttering as he shook it and said, “This isn’t Michigan… this is Russia.” A large agonizing mew drowned out the awkward silence from within the confines of the pet carrier. Happiness drew out in a smile as Yurio bent over the counter where he placed the carrier, poking a long finger through the bar coaxingly, “Just a few more minutes.” He cooed, the image a foreign sight for Yuri and Victor to take in. Though they knew of his love for cats- his wardrobe said enough, neither of them ever saw him with animals besides the few occasions he tolerated Makkachin.

“Aww, the tiger is just a little kitten after all.” Victor cooed, running his hand over the top of Makkachin’s curls.

“Shut up! I’m the Ice Tiger of Russia!!!” Yurio spat, “I’m setting Potya’s stuff in the bathroom, then I’m eating!” he yelled over Victor’s cackling. Abruptly, he gripped both the carrier and his suitcase in either hand, the black wheels making a gravely sound as it rolled behind him.

Aside from the few muffled clinks from the bathroom, the room died down from Victor’s laughter into a low hum of the usual quiet. Yuri set the bags on the counter, the brown catching the reflection in the metallic shine of the table. Sweet, savory aromas fled his nose, each sense tingling as he found the sides of his mouth beginning to salivate.

“What did you order?” Yuri asked, hooking a finger to peel the bag open. A new wave of smells rushed his senses, natural and earthy and just the slightest hint of something devilishly saccharine.

A finger pressed against Victor's lip as he thought, “Ahh… a few things… why?” his question was answered by a loud gurgle surging from Yuri’s stomach, and he bit back a laugh as he watched Yuri’s hands flail over his stomach. Victor’s hand dove into the packages, rummaging around until he pulled out two white packages and a thick cardboard bowl, “A salmon bliny for me, one for Yurio, borscht for Yurio, and… here.” Victor’s voice was smooth as he held the container out to Yuri, the corners of his lips peaking in delight.

Fingers gripped around the stiff cardboard as Yuri pulled it closer to inspect the contents. A bed of leafy greens, some sprigs of a type not recognizable the Yuri, pieces of flaky croutons topped with a light cheese swashed around. Yuri tipped the bowl over to see if anything else was there, “You got me a salad?” Yuri’s question came out flat as his eye almost rolled.

“Mhm. Yes?” Victor said, cocking his head to the side. _Yuri usually doesn’t eat heavily after practice, unless we go out to eat…even then… _Victor thought. True, Yuri didn’t typically gorge himself, the fear of weight gain far outweighing the need to indulge, but the grimace on Yuri’s face and the crinkle of his button nose gave Victor pause. Victor’s eyes widened with the glint of an idea shining in sapphires. His hands went back to the bag, rummaging through until pulling an oblong object. Long, thin fingers wrap around the paper, crinkling as Victor unravels the white paper. “I…did…get a chocolate almond bliny.” Victor teased the opening of the wrapper at Yuri, the top of his finger jotting along the soft flat edge until it picked some of the chocolate off. Victor attempted to swoop his finger upward to suck the chocolate from his finger but was intercepted by another pair of lips as Yuri took his finger in whole.

His tongue skated along the back of Victor’s finger, working it up and down until his swirled at the tip, leaving Victor slack jawed and remiss of any thought. All concentration centered on the long black lashes closing as Yuri dipped down and over, his finger vibrating as Yuri hummed into the bobbing. Every new step never ceased to leave Victor amazed as Yuri gained confidence in seduction, and this moment was no exception. The vision of Yuri sucking on his finger pulsed electricity though his body, and Victor froze from the fire thrumming in his veins.

A groan, loud and rumbling, broke Victor from his fixation as he flashed his eyes up with a start. Blonde hair swayed as Yurio shook his head furiously and scoffed. “I swear if you two keep that up I’ll go to Georgi’s.” he stated, shuffling past them. His fingers grazed over the containers, stopping for a moment to gaze into his reflection against the metal countertop.

_Was that supposed to be a threat?_ Victor wondered, looking down to see Yuri twitch upward, face stricken with a flush. He flattened his hand over his shirt to reset himself, and Victor could almost see the rapid pace of his heartbeat pounding out of his chest. Though, when Yuri looked up, a curtain of black strands shielding him from the view of anyone else but Victor, Yuri gave a wink as the curve of his mouth drew into a smirk.

“You know he’s just doing that because he’s hungry, right?” Yurio said, his food in hand as he stepped into the living room. Small patters of paws followed behind him, Makkachin lifting his nose to wiggle at the new smells of dinner that were being carried into the living room.

“Yuuuuri!” Victor pouted, his eyes large and animated as his bottom lip curved over his top.

“What?” Yuri asked, pausing midway through dipping his own finger into the bliny.

Within a matter of minutes, the containers lay empty on the coffee table, the contents devoured. Bits of dressing oozed from Yuuri's fork back into the cardboard bowl, and Yuri had to admit the salad was tasty despite his earlier misgivings. He placed the plastic cover over the bowl, letting it rest atop instead of pressing it down. Little nibbles sounded next to him, and he turned to see Victor, his face drawn and mewling in pleasure, as he took the next to last bite.

“Victor!” Yuri protested, earning a confused peek out of the corner of Victor’s eyes, “You said we’d share that!”

Victor’s eyes widened as he looked down at the small piece of wrapped chocolate between his two fingers, “Ah, right, here!” he said, extending the last bite to Yuri. Fingers nipped around the edges, and Yuri pulled the last morsel into his mouth, savoring the richness of the singular bite. Whether or not this was payback for the finger incident or just Victor’s forgetfulness, Yuri couldn’t be certain, but the sweetness overrode his momentary bitterness and he settled back to the side of Victor, resting his head on his shoulder.

Finding comfort in the calmness being near Victor brought him, Yuri nuzzled against the fabric as he scooted closer. Only seeing Victor for a few hours, the night before did little to dull the ache of the absence those three days left him with. He breathed in, letting the scent of Victor’s cologne Yuri had doused himself in finally mix with the musk and sweat that Yuri had come to know as Victor. Having the spray with him helped but having it with Victor was better.

_“WELCOME TO THE MADNESSSSSSS!!!!!”_ the phone sang out next to Yurio, the thrashing guitars causing everyone to jolt from the sudden burst. Yurio’s hand lunged at the phone, tapping the screen in earnest to keep the sound down. His eyes widened as he read the Cyrillic text across his screen, immediately pressing the answer call button upon reading. “Allo!” Yurio chimed happily into the speakers, a smile peaking from the corners of his mouth. Yuri watched the exchange, his eyes looking over the change in demeanor from Yurio’s usual angry or even apathetic look to that of a giddy child. The tips of his cheeks pinked, eyes glowing green and shiny as he spoke into the phone.

Lifting his head, Yuri leaned up to whisper against Victor’s ear. “What’s Yurio saying?”

“He’s talking to his grandfather, letting him know how practice is going.” Victor answered, wrapping his arm around Yuri’s shoulder to pull him in. Yuri curled his legs onto the side of the couch, his black athletic pants wrinkling as he pulled.

“Oh.” Yuri said. _Yurio being away from his family is probably lonely…I remember when I moved to Detroit…just hearing them on the phone was…_ Yuri thought as he watched Yurio exchange a few more words, his back falling against the lip of the couch as he bowled over in a moment of laughter. Whatever Nicholai had said to Yurio, it wiped the scowl from his face and replaced it with peace. Something Yuri had not seen since the day in the waterfall, as Yurio’s mind found his Agape. Something in the green of Yurio’s eyes always seemed to carry more than just the drive to win, but that vanished when he spoke of his grandfather, like he was passing back the torch.

With a click, Yurio ended the call, blonde strands dragging along the cushion of the couch as he tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling. As if a bolt of thought struck him instantaneously, Yurio popped from his seat on the floor, dashing over to the television stand. Yuri saw his hands grab at the Switch controllers, pulling them from either side of the dock. “Ah, thank you Yurio. Victor said you picked out the games.” Yuri said, feeling a kiss on top of his forehead as Victor’s hand squeezed his shoulder.

“Yeah. I picked out Smash so I could kill you in it.” Yurio said as he walked back over to the couch, landing on Yuri’s leg with a hard plop. Yuri blanched at the impact, his knees thrusting up to his naval as he wound into the tiny space between Victor and Yurio.

Unexpecting, Yurio tossed the controller in the air. Eyes widened to the swirl of black spiraling towards him and Yuri’s fingers scrambled to catch it, the small black controller bouncing as it hit Yuri’s palm, tumbling down. His left hand reached underneath, fumbling before it nearly tumbled to the floor, saved by Victor’s grasp. Gently, Victor placed the controller in his hands before cradling the back of Yuri’s head in his hand to plant one more kiss on his forehead before he popped off the couch. Brown eyes followed Victor as he left the room, Makkachin rising from the spot the dog warmed on the floor to trot along behind him. As they vanished, Yuri turned back around to find Yurio already pulled up with the screen loaded to pick your fighter.

On the first match, Yuri selected a small happy character, his smile a line of happiness as it drew up into its circular eyes. "_VILLAGER!" _the announcer on the game called out and Yurio looks over, the peak of incredulity wearing in his eyes as he smashed the select button on a blue creature masked in black fur over his eyes. "_LUCARIO!" _it called out as Yurio sneered, the confidence drooling from his mouth. A flash of black and the stage loaded up, the music trumpeting the beginning of the fight. Yurio added a few computer fighters to join as well, and they appeared on the screen on the bottom of the light brown floor, a pleasant village drawn in cartoon in the background. As the fight began, Yurio dashed forward, his chosen character’s aggressive expression matching his own. Yuri built a tree, the ax swinging back and forth until Yurio was just under it. And then, BOOM. The tree fell on Yurio’s character, amping up his damage as Yurio gritted his teeth, turning to kick Yuri’s Villager, but finding he had moved to set up another tree a level up from him.

“Seriously?” Yurio bit down on the bitterness as Yuri rode a rocket into him, sending his character flying off the stage until a flash of yellow and black flew diagonally across the screen, signaling Yurio’s fail. His shoulders stiffened as Yurio hunched over, cradling the controller to try to focus further. _I’m not losing to him in this! _Yurio thought, as tiny critters that resembled squirrels came out of Yuri’s Villager character and surrounded Yurio’s, building a house around him. Sounds of saws and hammers came through the television as the characters made their way up, enclosing Lucario completely and slamming the door, costing Yurio another life and gaining Yuri another smash.

When the voice on the screen announced Villager as winner, Yurio bit into his lip. The second round said the same, and Yurio ground his finger into the button. By the third match, Yurio tried playing another fighter- Samus, a blonde woman with a ponytail in a blue skintight suit and thought that would fix it. Yurio maneuvered the lithe blue-suited warrior expertly, but it still didn't amount to victory.

“NOT THAT GODDAMED TREE AGAIN!!!!” Yurio screeched, grunting as he jumped away, landing him into the open blue air and off the screen.

By the fifth match, Yurio grew ragged, his shoulder slumping... The winning announcement didn’t sting as much until he saw the little Villager raise his arms in applause, red shirt swaying beneath him. Green eyes darted over, lining up over the soft tufts of black hair now poking over Yuri’s eye, keeping his full demeanor upon winning outright. The breath on anger releasing from his throat, Yurio unclenched the controller, letting it drop into his lap. With a sigh, Yurio said, “You are an idiot, and a pig…but you’re not…”

Caught off guard, Yuri flickered a shudder as he twisted to look over Yurio. Realizing the seriousness of his stance and the word he was leaving out on purpose, a smile crept up Yuri’s lips. “Oh. Thank you, Yurio.”

“And why the hell hasn’t Victor taught you any Russian?!?! If you’re here, you should learn the damn language.” Yurio chided, his arms waving animatedly.

“What the hell hasn’t Victor done now?” Soft pads of feet tapped on the floor as Victor entered back through the room. His robe clung over his shoulders as his arms draped around Yuri as he leaned over the couch, pressing hip lips to Yuri’s ear to whisper into the kiss, “Coming to bed soon?” His low tone radiated electricity through Yuri’s entire being, and his red shirt waivered as a shudder fell down his spine. Long fingers began to dance along Yuri’s clavicle, brushing the sensitive place on the nape of Yuri’s neck Victor called a “spot.” Yuri still wasn’t completely sure on what spot meant but just Victor’s fingers on the edge of that skin left him wanting. His breath started the iirhythmic dance as his heartbeat quickened…only to be stopped by something soft smacking the front of his face.

Yurio held the throw pillow in hand as both Victor and Yuri stared blankly. “Not while I’m here! No gross shit!”

_Yurio said it would only be a week, right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I’ve said this a lot, but without the ability to write, I don’t think I would have made it through this year. Being able to share this fandom and story with you all gives me a purpose I hadn’t recovered since losing my parents, and I want to thank each and every one of you for every kudo, comment, and read of the chapter. I count being able to share this story as one of the greatest gifts I could be granted for Christmas, and I hope you all enjoy the ride along with me.  
From the bottom of my soul, thank you.  
Tutti


	22. 22

Chapter 22

Another morning Yuri found himself on his side, back curled into the crux of Victor’s body as his legs bent forward, Victor catching them. Feet rubbed against feet, the soft cushions winding over one another to begin the morning flexing. Though the moonlight still cast its effervescent glow through the window, the six-a.m. alarm would soon beep through the phone, and their bodies grew accustomed to the time. Even more so, Yuri felt the hand creeping up his chest in wondering invitation a welcome gesture. Sure, his heart still raced, and blood began to rush until it warmed his cheeks, but it was no longer from fear of the unknown but rather anticipation.

Fingers moved along the smooth creamy skin and Yuri melted to the touch, falling apart as a deft finger circled around the sensitive pink flesh on his chest. He crooned into it, arching his back. Toes flexed and bent as electricity warmed in Yuri’s gut, causing a twitch from below. Searching, he scooted his backside closer until Yuri’s curve slotted against Victor’s groin, finding the hardness pressing behind in a way that made Yuri let out a gasp of excitement.

Continuing to prod his finger over the pink round nub, now popped in arousal, Victor pressed a kiss into Yuri’s neck, hearing another squeak of a gasp that made his heart race. Every noise, soft or loud, shot straight to his groin. Victor reveled in it. “Mm, Good morning, Yuri.” Victor murmured, the grit of sleepiness still tied to his lustful tone, making his voice deep and graveling in a way that left Yuri shivering at the words.

Finding the top of his spine delectable, Victor moved to kiss each vertebra. Every kiss left a wet warmth that spiked the electricity pulsing on Yuri’s skin as the lips went lower. One by one, Victor’s lips dented the skin as his hands moved from chest to side. Legs swooped against the cool sheets as he dipped his lips into the deep curve of Yuri’s back, relishing in its form. No one could be as beautiful as Yuri’s body still warm from the body heat of being held through the night.

Hot breath hovered over the top of Yuri’s waistband, his blue boxers covering the last few remaining links of Yuri’s spine. Victor’s palm laid flat against his back end, the sensation making every part of Yuri shiver as his body went alight with want. Slowly, Victor hooked a finger, his hand skating on every goosebump underneath that elastic band.

_MROOOWWW> SCRATCH>>>BANG>>>CLANGGGG_

Snapped from the moment, blue eyes shot up as silver strands flew up and around from the jolt of Victor sitting up. His arm curled over Yuri as his long legs heaved round, jumping over him and bounding for the door. “V-Victor! You can’t go out there like that!” Yuri squeaked, pointing to his bare form.

“It’s no different than the onsen.” Victor protested, planting his hands on his hip as he gave a wink.

Hands covered over the pinking cheeks as Yuri buried his face, his own arousal barely waning at the sight of Victor, still at full mast, standing in front of him. “No, it’s a little different…you’re still…umm…and Yurio is…” he stammered through his fingers.

“Oh!” Victor said, looking down. He closed the gap, feet padding across the floor until his lips could kiss the tips of Yuri’s clasped fingers. “I guess I should find some pants. You probably should too.” Victor said, stepping away. Yuri heard the nob of the closet door open as he pried his fingers away from each other, looking down at the hard outline poking from beneath the soft fabric of his blue boxers. He clapped his hands over the top of it, pretending that by sheer force of will, he could get his arousal to go away.

Reluctantly, he rose. Feet planted against the cold wood and Yuri recoiled into himself. The frost of the morning air burned as he heaved one final breath, leaping up and practically sprinting to the closet door, his feet barely touching the floor. With a snap, he closed the door behind him, the click obnoxiously loud at this time in the morning. Grey sweats hanging loosely at his waist now, Victor turned with a start, eyes wide but softening as he noticed the shivering figure in front of him. He unfolded the black sweatshirt in his hands, extending it out as he opened the center. A bit of chill hit once more before Yuri was covered in warmth, the sweatshirt hitting the tip of his thigh as Victor pulled it over him. “There.” Victor said, placing a kiss on the tip of Yuri’s nose as he enveloped Yuri, threading his fingers through the black strands of hair as he pressed his cool cheek against his chest.

“H-how are you so warm?!?” Yuri balked, his cheek tinged pink with the cold flaming against the taut skin of Victor’s chest.

A chuckle billowed, rippling the hard muscle against Yuri’s face as Victor spoke, “I’m Russian.” He stated as he squeezed his arms tighter around Yuri’s frame, “My cute little Yuri needs to be warmed up!’ he cooed, dipping his head until his lips brushed against Yuri’s ear, “I can think of a way…”

_MREEEARRR…Clang…SCRRRATCH_

Torn from the moment, Yuri leaped as he twirled around, eyes wide with a startle. “W-What was that?” Yuri asked, stuttering a scare in his voice. His arms wrapped one over the other as his hands ran up and down his upper arm while his eyes dashed back and forth. Not taking a moment to think of the possibility, Victor thrust open the door and stepped to the bedroom door. Gentle pads crept at his side, quickly catching up to him. Catching the glint of silver in the corner of his eyes, he looked down to see Yuri with an overturned skate in hand.

“What are you doing with that?” He guffawed as he asked, eyes wide as his face restrained the laugh in the twitching corner of his mouth.

Warm brown eyes peered up through the strands of black as Yuri looked upwards. “It’s the sharpest thing we have. It’s like a knife!” Yuri said, his voice strained. Victor’s fingers gripped the knob of the door, and with a nod of understanding threw it open.

Instantly, Victor buckled in a fit of laughter. Brown fur rushed by in a whirl as Makkachin wiggled, crouching low from the front while the dog’s back legs stood upright. A hiss sounded in the corner next to the door and Victor spotted the frayed stuck up end of a cat’s fur as Potya was cornered with Makkachin whining for her attention. Stomps thudded harshly against the floor as Yurio rounded through the living room and into the hallway. “Get your dog away from my cat!!!” he spat.

“Aww, Makkachin only wants to play…” Victor pouted as he bent to ruffle through Makkachin’s fur, his fingers needing into the thick curls.

Scooping his cat into his arms, Yurio turned, his face scrunching as he all but hissed as he stepped past. The loose black pants that cupped around Yurio’s ankle fell back down into place as he disappeared back into the living area, his voice whispering coos to Potya barely audible to anyone else.

A few sweeps of broken pottery lay crumbled in the trashcan where Yuri emptied them. Bits of sweat clung to the back of his hand as he wiped his forehead, letting out a sigh. The aroma of coffee beans sifted through the air as the grinding sound released. As the air rested coolly beneath, the ridged stretch of the sweatshirt fabric tickling Yuri’s thighs as he twirled around to see Victor emptying the remnants of the coffee beans into the press. Something about the sight of Victor preparing his morning drink warmed Yuri in a way he couldn’t put a finger on. He watched the back of Victor’s muscles flex as he lifted the milk to pour it into the proper container, the steam wafting up above the silver fringe as it framed around his entire body, clouding him like an effervescent being sent from another world. _At home…my family brought us dinner or drinks. They did for all the guests…but here… _he smiled into his thought, his cheeks tinting pink as he leaned over the countertop. _Seeing this side of Victor is like nothing in the magazines. _

“Do you watch him do everything with that stupid looks on your face?” Yurio gestured widely in Yuri’s direction as he held Potya in his other arm. Victor turned in enough time to catch a glimpse of the doe-eyed stare he’d know Yuri to use when he was thinking about Victor.

His finger wrapped over the ceramic cup as the last bit of coffee dripped in, the dark liquid still swirling as he lifted it up, smirking in Yurio’s direction. “Ah, Yurio! Would the little kitten like some juice?” Victor teased, scrunching his face as he made a coo in Yurio’s direction. Green eyes flared up in Victor’s direction, Yurio’s lips holding in the anger steaming inside him. His fingers felt at the soft fur of Potya’s mane, stroking over her back as he glared in unison with the cat. Without an actual response, Victor continued walking over to the counter next to where Yurio was seated, taking a sip before placing it against the metal top. His blue eyes sunk into the brown, as his tongue perched at the bottom of his lips. The red hue coming over Yuri’s cheek indicated he was at least understanding what the gesture meant, and with a low hum, he tipped the cup back again, allowing his bangs to fall as he exaggerated the intake of drink, swallowing heavily as he stared directly at Yuri, brown eyes beginning to peak read.

“We-I-we should take a shower!” Yuri sputtered the words wet from his dry mouth as he turned, scuttering out of the room quickly. A swipe of air and Victor’s mug flew through the air, landing on the ground with a spiral as coffee spilled in every direction.

“My coffee!” Victor pouted, looking from the empty cup to the clenched fist still at the level with where his coffee once sat.

“Potya did it.” Yurio said.

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, she would have if I didn’t. Stop doing gross shit this early!”

.

.

.

. 

The rink door shut with a slam, boots knocking into the hardened snow until whit flakes slushed into the already shoveled sidewalk. “Practice sucked. This whole day sucked!” Yurio fumed, fingers flinching at the cheetah print border of his black coat.

“Your flip just needs...” Victor began, sidestepping the balls of snow barreling forward with each kick.

“Hell no!” Yurio yelled, stuffing his hand firmly into his pocket. His knuckles smacked against his hip, the bruise by now purple and welted from the number of times Yurio fell on it during practice and winced. “Just shut up! I’ll figure the flip-out myself!”

Victor paused as he snaked his arm over Yuri’s shoulder, thumbing over the white fabric of his puffed coat. “Hahaha, okay, little kitten!” _No matter what…he always reminds me of…_ Victor thought, the image in his mind drawing the smile down from its normal curl of happiness. He shook his head, silver har swirling around him as he spoke once more with enthusiasm, “Let’s eat! Starving!”

“Victor, we don’t have any food at the house,” Yuri said, catching the wavering smile for a moment.

“Ah, right. We’ll go shopping!” Victor perked up in his pace as he spoke. With a quick peck against Yuri’s cheek, he guided them forward. He slipped his fingers into his coat pocket, pulling his phone out to find the cab app installed there.

Yurio jogged behind, flailing his arms as he declared, “I’m coming too!”

Exiting the cab, Victor dusted the lapels of his jacket, trying to rid himself of any lingering odor of the stale chips that stunk of the vehicle. His silver hair fluttered in the wind as he turned to place a kiss against Yuri’s frozen cheek as Yuri stood still, and perplexed at the grandiose building in front of them.

“Ah, Victor…this isn’t where we get groceries…” Yuri said, his eyes peering over the building, narrow at the front and expanding outward. Large bay windows framed in black set along with the three levels lit with white bulbs around them. It kept the same era styled architecture, the light beige hinted with pink on the outside of the building. Before he could fully grasp everything, Victor gripped his hand tight, his feet kicking behind as Victor pulled him forward.

“Right! Yuri this place is amazing!” Victor sang with the tune of an elated child, and Yuri found himself harmonizing with the excitement tingling on his skin. At Victor’s run Yuri barely had time to notice the gold plated entryway as it whizzed by, the ornate designs curling and winding above the top caught for a brief second to marvel before the electric door widened and Victor burst in with Yuri at hand.

“Yuri, look!” Victor pointed at nothing but the sheer size of the pure white store. Yuri’s eyes traveled up the levels, each pristine and wrapping with various displays of clothes between the wide square archways. “This is one of the first department stores in Russia!” he mused.

A gentleman in all black attire approached them, his gelled back hair shining in the light. “Would you like an assistant for shopping today?” he asked in English, his accent barely prominent on his tongue. His smile gleaned luminescent with the pearl of his veneers almost plastic in its sincerity.

“Yes, of course!” Victor beamed brightly, his eyes glowing in a way Yuri hadn’t seen since before Victor left for Euros. Something weighted behind the blues, darkening them just enough that a few diamond shimmers lost their luster, but Yuri couldn’t place for what reason. And before he was given a chance to think any further, Victor linked their arms by the elbow and whisked Yuri away as Yurio cursed something in Russian behind them.

“Yuri, look at this stitching! Do you like it?” Victor’s thumb ran over the Aubergine hued topped by a rustic plaid coat.

“We can have it fitted if need be.” The assistant said, taking the garment from Victor as he handed it off.

A finger rested against the tip of Victor’s lips as he paused for thought, eyes grazing over Yuri’s form. “Might need to with the pants… Yuri’s waist is small, but his hips are his mother’s…”

“V-Victor!?!” Yuri balked, earning a quizzical look from Victor as his screech pulled him from the moment. Brown eyes turned down as Yuri looked always sheepishly, rubbing his shoe over the other. “You don’t have to buy me anything…”

“I know how much I turned in the last quarter of the year, Yuri. Do you?” Victor’s voice was flat in a way Yuri rarely heard it, and he flinched at the tone.

“Hah?!?” he jumped as he asked, his fingers finding his hair as he held his head.

Holding his finger out for emphasis, the sleeves of his blue jack falling to his elbow, exposing a bit of his aubergine hued sweater beneath, Victor stated, “Knowing your worth is as important as knowing yourself. How can you know what you can spend without knowing what you have?”

Yuri’s eyes stayed cast to the floor, the white times reflecting in his eyes, glittering against the warm brown. _We haven’t really had time to discuss everything…I know he said I was home and our money is from both of us…but when he does this I…I don’t want to be a burden. Victor doesn’t need to do this… _ “I think this is really something we should discuss…”

“Ugh!” Yurio wretched, tossing his hands into the air in frustration, “Just let him buy you things! Damn. It’s not that hard! Victor, you’re buying me something, too!”

“Right, right...” Victor agreed, his blue eyes going wide as he clutched to a plush lion, shaking it in front of Yurio as he laughed, “Do you want a lion, Yurio?”

‘Tsk” Yurio cursed but his eyes held over the stitched body dangling in Victor’s grip. With a whip of his hand, Yurio clasped onto the tiger, nestling the plush toy underneath his arm as he wandered away.

Before long, Victor zipped through the levels, eyes glittering sapphire as he enthused from one item to the next. Yuri followed along quietly enjoying the spectacle and finding his eyes starting to flirt over the selections as well. It was hard not to catch Victor’s enthusiasm once he got going, and Yuri found himself nodding at a sweater Victor held up and smiling. As they rounded to the next level, the escalator steps flashing pixelated images beneath, Yuri sighed as Victor found his fingers, lacing them together as it stitched his nerves away into ease.

That is, until Victor’s fingers felt at a pair of underwear on a manakin, dragging his nail over the swirls of lace on each of the legs. Yuri gulped. “You know, Yuri…these look like what you wear…” Victor began, still fixated on the pair of bower briefs as his hand moved from the sheer lace to the thicker black between each leg.

“Hah?! My underwear is fine!” Yuri protested, the heat on his cheeks radiating to behind the lace.

“This one is lace!” Victor smiled with a wink as he began to step closer, his loafer dragging across the floor until his leg was slotted between either of Yuri’s. “You’d look beautiful in them.” He could feel a stuttered breath on his neck as he leaned forward, lips tingling against Yuri’s earlobe as he whispered, “Just like the Eros costume. I want to see you in and out of them. Can you show me that?”

“V-Vi-Vi- Victor!!!!” Yuri balked, his eyes widened as his brows arched up the middle of his forehead. All the heat fled his outer extremities and radiated beneath his groin, the warm sensation leaving him tingling. He looked into those blue eyes, bubbling with desire, want, and he knew Victor felt the same way he did.

“I can’t leave you two for ten minutes without you being disgusting pigs!” Yurio barked, crossing his arms over his shirt as he scoffed.

_This is going to be a long week. _

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The last plate rested back into its place as Victor stacked it on top, wringing his hands on the towel, paying special attention to dry off his ring. Yurio’s pout only lasted long enough for him to be fed, again. _Just like a kitten… _Victor thought, listening to the electronic beeping coming from the living room. With the kitchen set back in an order that pleased Victor’s methodical and orderly side, he stepped from the kitchen, the soft padding of his feet chilled against the floor, shooting a momentary shiver up his spine. His sweater crinkled against his shoulder as he leaned in the doorway, taking a moment to watch both of them playing. Mechanical button sounds overwhelmed the quieter music onscreen. Not recognizing anything on the screen, he turned to gaze at Yuri, black brows knit together as his brown eyes steadied onto the screen, determined. _How cute, he looks just like he does before a competition. _

“No! Not that stupid tree again! How do you even do that?” Yurio yelled as his character splat against the screen.

“Ahh, …it looks like it takes a lot of stamina, Yurio. My Yuuri has all the stamina.” Victor said as he made his presence known, stopping to place a kiss on top of Yuuri’s head before sitting on the other side of him.

“That’s not funny!” Yurio growled. “This is fucking dumb.” He said, his fingers pressing into the buttons with a force surely to leave a welt before the announcer called the game over. Blonde hair sprung over his face as he shielded himself from the win screen, the thin drawn smile of Villager mocking him as he applauded himself.

“Did you want to play, Victor?” Yuri asked. “ We have another controller?”

“Oh, I’ve never played before?” Victor blinked, startled at the thought.

Yurio scoffed, “You’ve never played Smash before? Didn’t they have it out when you were a kid? What the hell did you do?”

“Well, I…”

A finger held out as Yuri chimed in, his chest pushed out with a pride lie a was reciting a famous historical fact, “He went to the movies and took Makkachin on walks when he wasn’t in training…” Yuri said, stopping as the realization hit him that he was speaking about things Victor hadn’t exactly told him. His hand rubbed the back of his neck as he replied sheepishly, “Oh, umm… that’s what the interviews said…”

A hearty laugh pounded from Victor’s chest as he clasped on Yuri’s leg, giving his thigh a squeeze of appreciation. “Ah! Right! We went everywhere together, didn’t we. Makkachin?” he said, leaning over to scratch at the top of Makkachin’s head.

“Really? You didn’t have any friends? That’s so lame. Otabek said he’d be on tonight. I already added him to your friends..”

“Oh, thanks?”

“We can play with more people… then someone can kick your ass.”

Yurio continued on with some more rivalrous banter, but Victor’s eyes drifted to look through the outside window. _I had friends…in the beginning. _Victor thought as the room faded from the current status and morphed into a large bedroom with a full-size bed pressed against the back wall, royal blue bed linen covering over the plush mattress.

_The velvet covers creased as he sat down, no longer twenty-eight with rippling broad shoulders, but slightly twiggy and twelve, his muscle definition just beginning to form. His finger twirled the pieces of silver strands still too short to tie back into a ponytail, the bits that were just barely poking out from the elastic band holding them together. A melody smooth and crystal played out from the CD player on the white dresser in front of him, the square box too large to carry around. The tip of his toes bobbed along while he turned his head to watch another boy twirl around, one arm raised as if it were perched on a taller ghost’s shoulder, the other around the imaginary waist. _

_As the song ended, the boy spun around, his chestnut hair splaying wide before it landed back down just under his earlobe. He sprinted back to the player, finger pressing over the back button until the song replayed again. A giggle sprung from Victor’s mouth as he watched the boy twist one more time before flinging himself on the bed back first. Tufts of air puffed from the mattress on the impact od the land, and both boys ended in a fit of giggles. [“One day, I will play this song and dance at my wedding!”] the boys said, his green eyes glimmering at the ceiling as if it were projecting scenes from _

_Victor rolled to lean against his elbow, smiling wide as he asked, [“Hahaha. Who will the lucky person be?”]_

_[“**He** will be a prince.”] the boy said, emphasizing the word as he pushed his hands up animatedly, [“And I will get out of being the dish boy of this stupid castle.”]_

_[“Oh, really? You sound so sure of it!”] Victor taunted, bits of loose hair falling forward as he leaned closer. _

_[“Yes! I am! What about you? What do you think about when you think of a lover?”] the boy asked, pushing up to sitting. _

_Victor paused, searching for an answer in the midst of darkness. His finger found his lip as he lost himself in thought. [“Oh..ummm… I don’t know….”]_

_The boy sprung onto his knees, the tip of his pale nose almost touching against Victor’s as he beamed and stuck out his hand. [“Let’s make a pact! We play this song when we find our soulmate! That’s what this song is about anyways!”] _

_He grasped the hand, shaking with a nod, [“Okay.”] he said, his hand feeling weighted as he began to inch closer. Breaths fell hot on one another as the gap between them barely kept them a centimeter apart._

_[“Victor…Vitya…”] the boy whispered; his breath heavy._

_[“Kostya….”] he smiled, starting to close his eyes. _

_“Victor?” a small, delicate voice squeaked from behind._

“VICTOR?” Yuri’s voice woke him from his daydream with a snap. Blue eye popped wide as his body jolted in startle, Victor shaking his head as he turned to Yuri, noticing a controller extended in his hand, “Did you want to play?”

His mouth opened in an O as Victor let out an overexaggerated sigh, stretching his arms until his fist nudged Yurio’s shoulder provokingly. “I actually think I’m ready for bed. Yuri?” his eyes gave a look that Yuri took as a hint.

“Oh..y-yeah… Goodnight Yurio.” Yuri said, earning a wave of dismissal from Yurio’s hand as he deselected Yuri’s controller, adding Otabek instead.

The weight of exhaustion started to wear down on Yuri as he let Victor pull him off of the couch and guide them to the bedroom. With a snap, the door closed, and Victor pressed his back against the cold wood as he pulled out his phone. _I wonder if I can find the song. _Victor thought, fingers tapping against the app and into the search bar.

Arms stretched as Yuri yawned, this time sincere, “Is this what being an older sibling is like?” he asked.

Victor’s face shot up almost frozen as his finger held still against the phone, “Oh…ummm…” he started.

“You wouldn’t know, would you?” Yuri asked rhetorically, shaking his head in laughter.

With a press, the ethereal electronic melody sprang from the speakers of his cellphone as Victor placed it on the dresser. His arms reached wide as he found his hands on Yuri’s waist, rolling his fingers over the firm back muscle before clasping them together. “I’ll never find another dance partner like you, Yuri.” And against the bare floor, their feet chilling through the spin…they began to dance as the singer’s cool fluid voice sang the chorus.

_I knew I loved you before I met you. _

_https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DZqFK4dcl2Q_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like it says, true to my 90s baby heart, the song Victor looks up is, "I knew I loved you" by Savage Garden. 
> 
> Happy New Year Everyone!
> 
> May 2020 bring us all good luck and Ice Ado!


	23. Chapter 23

Yuri swiped his finger over his eye, nails dusting out the bit of crust still in the corner as he lets out a yawn. The past few days with Yurio reminded him of the onsen, but with the added weight of being the only form of entertainment for the week. Wincing, he flexed his fingers, still stiff from the hours spent tapping and pressing the controller trying to evade Yurio's attacks. Grabbing his glasses from the stand, Yuri flicked them open with a snap and set them on his face, the fuzzy edges of the world now clear as he went through the hallway.

The recesses of sleep released with each step forward and Yuri came from his cloudy haze as he heard the clicks and pats of plastic from the living room. Pads of feet pressed to the wood, the winter cold settling into the floor now a pleasant reminder that he lived in Russia; he lived in Russia with Victor. A smile slid from the side of his mouth at the thought as his hands ran through his hair, the coarse locks pushing out of his eyes as he looked into the living room. Yurio sat, crossed legged, in the center of the couch with his hands gripped around the controller. Blonde hairs draped just beneath his shoulders, but enough that only the tip of his slender nose poked out beneath the veil of straw. Pausing to glance from the player to the screen, Yuri saw a character he knew very well, The Villager, beneath the player 1 name. Player 2 sports a large, strapping character clad in dark clothing

_Who plays Snake? Yuri wondered_. Though the answer came in the form of a Russian curse followed by the name Otabek as Yurio screams into the television, his mouth twisting from an almost snarl to a pleasant grin as he sets up another tree of attack. The tenseness usually holding over Yurio's shoulders relaxed, slumping down with ease as he let out a laugh someone could even call giddy if they never met him. With the quiet of just a few sounds from the screen finally given a place in Yuri's mind, his ears searched for the normal sounds of pattering paws, a giggle, the crinkle of a newspaper as it is folded over. Nostrils flared as Yuri sucked in a deep breath, noticing the absence of coffee beans percolating.

"Where's Victor?" Yuri asked mostly to himself, but the sudden voice caused Yurio to jolt, the controller tumbling out of his hand as he turned around with a jerk. Green eyes widen and then settle, making sense of the figure behind him.

Wildly, Yurio's hair splayed as he shot an agitated look in Yuri's direction. "He's not in bed with you?" he asked.

"No," Yuri answered as his eyes began flittering back and forth, rubbing his hands over the other.

"Where's your phone? Did he text?" Yurio asked, his eyes glancing up and down over Yuri's body, noticing the slightly too large shirt of Victor's, the blue spandex of his boxer briefs peeking out from beneath. "Do you ever wear pants?"

Cheeks pinked, the sensation of Victor's smooth skin running over his bare legs as he drifts to sleep playing over his own, sending tingles ghosting over his thigh as he struggles to gain composure. Seeing the attempt at modesty, Yurio groaned, pulling his phone out and thumbing a text as Yuri tried absentmindedly to pull the bottom of the shirt down over his thighs. Though, with every pull forward the back rode up, the cold air pricking the exposed skin of Yuri's back as his rear popped out from under the shirt.

Yurio shook his head at the sight, going back down to his screen as the blue light cast its whitening glow on his face. "He's at the rink."

Trailing down the same hallway with Yurio in toe, his tennis shoes squeaked as he treaded over the glossy waxed floor. As they walked passed the rink, _smooth_ melancholic music drifted in the hall through the rink doors, a sound giving Yuri the itch of familiarity. He paused, twisting his leg as his black pants swished in the turn to barrel through the doors.

"Hey, asshole! there's a sign on the door no one's allowed i-" Yurio barked, shut mid-sentence as the door flung open and the scratching blades rounded as Victor turned, his grey sweats waving behind him like a proud flag. "Is this-" he started as he stepped through the doorway.

"Victor's free program." Yuri finished, his chocolate hued eyes twinkling with awe. He's shown me a little of his program song…but not the program. _This step sequence?!? How is he doing it?_ Yuri wondered as Victor's mohawked and kicked up into a camel spin, his long leg pointed outward as the music painted the heavy toll with a violin wilting each note into the other as the snare beat tenderly behind, signaling the fight to win. Silver hair swept over as he wound upwards, reaching out and up as he landed on his knee, his head cast down like a shooting star that lost its light.

The last string fading to the silence, Yuri and Yurio stepped forward slowly, entranced by the sound. Almost as if pulled from one world and raptured into the next, the tug carried them to the edge of the rink. A deep barreling cough cut through the silence, and Yuri perked at the sight of Yakov. His beaded grey eyes still stayed forward on Victor as his finger brushed beneath his eye, a clear liquid glistening before he pocketed his hand and grunted staunchly. _Did Yakov just wipe a tear away?_ Yuri's mind questioned as his gaze moved from Yakov back to Victor.

"That'll do, Victor," Yakov said, his voice straight and firm. Still panting, the bated breath casting wisps of white clouds with each exhale, Victor nodded. Bits of sweat streaked down his face as he rose back to his full sight, dusting his hands on his sweats. Blue eyes shot up and grow wide as Victor caught the bits of black spikes sticking out from the side of his eyes.

"Yuuuuuriii!!!!" he all but sings, his serious focused cut completely as his mouth turns into a heart-shaped smile. Gold blades glide as Victor skated over, his black three-quarter shirt fluttering behind him as he slid, arms open. His arms wrapped around Yuri as they meet, enveloping him excitedly in an embrace. Cool to the touch, Yuri flinched as the icy chilled skin brushes past his neck, but the warmth of both of their bodies is quickly enough to heat beneath them, and he settles back in as Victor's grip tightens. Every bit of muscle formed around Yuri's shoulders; a shelter built with arms that Yuri never knew he needed until Victor hugged him for the first time.

"Yuri, are you coming back today?" Yakov asked, his brow cocked upwards.

"Oh, is the fumigating done?" Yuri asked, pulling out of Victor's clutches enough to turn his head, bits of silver fringe tickled his nose and he twitched.

"Is that what he told you?" Yakov scoffed, his eyes lingering over a mop of blonde hair that fell completely over Yurio as he dipped his head down, muttering something incomprehensible besides the few words of "disgusting" and "dumb."

Victor tilted his head curiously as he asked, "Huh?"

The stench of irritation fuming over his body, Yakov crossed his arms and gave a reluctant groan, "Lilia and I…"

Arms flailed as Yurio waved in front of Yakov, his eyes begging from him to not proceed further. "Ugh! It's so gross! Why is everyone so dumb! Mila, Georgi, Victor…now you and Lilia!"

_This is the boy who wanted to skate Eros?_ Victor thought, letting his fingers barely skate over Yuri's back end as he pulled away, smiling at the yip of a squeak he received in return. I wonder how Yuri feels about that? His eyes stilled on the curve of Yuri's round butt for a moment as he thought. Feeling the wheels turn in his mind, his mouth turns into a mischievous grin as he returned his gaze upwards. "Alright, Yurio. I'll take you back to get your stuff. Yuri and I have plans tonight."

"We do?" Yuri lifted his brow seriously as he spoke, pieces of black strands going into the thick of his lashes.

Aghast, Victor's mouth falls open, "Yuri, you don't remember?"

"You didn't tell me?!?" Yuri shrieks, his eyebrows raised into the middle of his forehead.

For a moment, Victor pondered, searching the vast mechanisms of his brain for the certainty that he told Yuri. Pressing his finger against his lip, his eyes darted back and forth as the blue pools swirled until he gave a resolute nod. "Oh, I forgot." He said, throwing his arms over Yuri's shoulder. "C'mon Yuri let's go!"

"Victor, you still have your skates on!"

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The car door snapped back into place, securing Yuri into the driver's seat. His legs liquified as he sunk into the plush seating, his now dark jeans rolling over the cushion as he let out a sigh, the swell of air vomiting forward causing the trinket dangling from Victor’s mirror to whip back and forth wildly. His brown eyes reflected in the mirror as he watched the Yurio fade behind the large door, only his cheetah print suitcase visible behind him. "Ahhh, a week with Yurio was…"

"Enough." Victor finished, leaning over to plant a kiss on the top of Yuri's forehead. The residue cooled and tingled as Victor left to go back to the steering wheel, putting the car into drive. Yuri jolted at the turn, black hair jostling around him as he quickly strapped his seatbelt into place with a click.

"So…where are we going?" Yuri asked in earnest, his eyes gazing over Victor's profile.

The silver strands caught a bit of sun as Victor turned, the pale-yellow settling like gold dust on an Egyptian pyramid; fitting. "It's a surprise!" Victor said with a wink.

"Victor…" Yuri began to groan, but the twinkle sparkling in Victor's eyes was the one he always wore when the excitement was almost too much to handle. So many things about Victor still alluded Yuri. _How can he be so mature and put together and then…not?_ He thought as his body jarred forward with the fierce halt of the brake. Bracing himself against the dash, his hands splayed to hold himself steady as Victor whizzed passed another hub of cars traveling too close until Yuri almost planted straight into the dash from the force of the next stop. Shaking the impending fear of his safety, Yuri fought for some form of conversation. His mind fell back to the few moments of the ending skate, and the way Victor's hair fluttered down as he all but crumpled into himself at the finale. "Your free programs… really different than before." He said, looking curiously in Victor's direction for any tell as to the meaning behind it.

"Never do anything twice! Every show is a new beginning. Each year different from the next." Victor stated, removing both hands off the wheel to emphasize. Another car whipped in front, and Yuuri snapped his hands in front of his face to hide. The brakes screeched and Victor muttered something in Russian Yuri couldn't translate. A gentle hand-wrapped over Yuri's leg as Victor squeezed reassuringly. "It's okay, Yuri. Just take deep breaths."

Bit by bit, Yuri peeled his fingers from over the glasses, revealing once again the blue frames. He pinched the bridge of his glasses to remove them as his other lifted for the white t-shirt beneath his cream-colored sweater. He pulled up the chunky woven braids of the sweater and tugged out his undershirt until he had enough cloth to clean his glasses. "Katya said you were the same as a child…"

"Katya?" Victor asked, his eyes searching as if he could see the name but couldn't make out the owner.

"Uhm— from the cabaret," Yuri said as Victor continued to search through the windshield as to where he remembered the name from. _Victor wasn't at the cabaret. But Katya said she knew him. But when she saw him on the phone Victor didn't know it either. What did Katya tell him her name was?_ "…erm…what was it she said…Kosh//Kost"

"Kostya?" Victor interjected, glancing over to see the black sweeps of hair falling back and forth as Yuri nodded in agreement. "Ah, right," Victor said, his lips thin and straight as the glimmer in his eyes faded.

"Right. "Yuri said, feeling an awkward tension rise in him. "She said you had a sha-" 

"Oh look, Yuri! We're here!" Victor chirped, smiling wide as he pulled in to park along the snowy bank overlapping the sidewalk. Yuri's eyes settled over the building, the similar architecture from the era as before, with the Cyrillic sign reading, "Кинотеатр для двоих – Пандора" in bold blocked letters. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, Victor snaked his arm around his waist, pulling him close until hip meshed with hip, Victor dark jeans rubbing against his side as he let out a giggle. "It's exciting. Neh, Yuri?"

Eyes squinted as Yuri tried to gaze inside the large windows through the tint, "I don't know what it is." He admitted.

"Right. Pandora Cinema for Two!" Victor beamed, gesturing openly as he guided Yuri by the waist through the doors. The dim lighting cast a romantic aura to the entrance, Victor's hand gripping tighter on Yuri's waist as it rubbed the coarse fabric of his blue peacoat. Victor exchanged a few greetings in Russian as Yuri nodded courteously when he thought he needed to, his neck beginning to heat red from the stem of anxiety starting to blossom beneath the wool of his coat. As if he could sense it, Victor ran his thumb softly on the contour of Yuri's side, slowly kneading away the tension with each stroke.

A thin young woman in a black pencil skirt and white blouse lead them through the doors, smiling genuinely as she nodded and spoke once more before shutting the dark oak doors. Yuri let out a gasp when he saw the room. The lush beige couch stretched the entire back end, making a cozy space adorned with throw pillows and red plaid blankets. On the wall directly across was a giant screen dimly lit by a few low black lanterns, their yellow light giving just enough light to see while preserving the subdued ambiance. Victor nudged them forward, fingers working to unbutton his coat as he peeled out of it tossing it to the side as he dipped to the couch where it curved in, making space for the circular table. The light allowed the moon shapes cut out of the metal panes in the table to glow like a starry night, and Yuri felt himself warm at the sight as he unfurled from his peacoat and sat it next to Victor.

A few hollow thuds sounded in the room as Yuri cocked his head upwards, seeing Victor patting for him to sit next to him. His face heated in a red in a way it hadn't since Barcelona, the flustering feeling of being so lost in love and want desperately trying to bid for the courage to show it. Obliging to the request, Yuri scooched in next to him, feeling the warm pressure of Victor's hand wrap around his waist once more. Candles flickered on shelves along the wall catty-corner to them and Yuri spied a small cove with another cushion at the other end.

"Look, Yuri!" Victor said as he leaned, heaving a grey plush bear from the corner. It's fuzz ruffled as it sat, curved ears reaching over the top of Victor's head. "Want some champagne?" Victor asked, reaching for the bottle nested on the table in front of him. Fingers clipped the neck of the class as he tipped the bottle over, the champagne fizzing as it hit the glass. His hand help firm as he tilted the glass in Yuri's direction, eyes shining mischievously as Yuri relented, taking the glass with a nod.

"Thank you." He said, watching Victor pour some into his flute. The bubbles popped on the edge of his lips as he took a sip, the sweetness hitting his tongue vivaciously. "You…wanted to have another date?"

With a gleaming smile, Victor shook his head. "You reminded me the other day that I used to like going to the movies."

"You forgot?" Yuri asked.

"No, I just was" Victor searched for the next word. What described almost twenty years of skating, practice, interviews, more skating, more practice, sponsorships, marketing promotions? "…busy."

"Oh," Yuri said, nursing the last half of his drink in his lap.

"But now I get to have my Yuuri watch something with me!" Victor lunged forward wrapping both arms around Yuri's shoulders as he all but leaped into a hug. Nose tickled along the side of Yuri's neck as lips pressed at the crook with barely a whisper of pressure.

Yuri flailed, gasping at the sensation sparking at the feeling of Victor's lip in that place. "Victor, we're in public!"

"It's just the two of us in here." Victor kissed into Yuri's neck.

"Oh!" _OH!_ Suddenly the all of the dammed yearnings built up over the week felt brimming enough to burst. He tilted his head, opening himself up for more kisses on his neck. Every new press of lips was like opening a present that he'd seen wrapped for him for ages. One partial night after Victor coming home was not nearly enough after the month before and Yuri crooned as he unwrapped as well.

Victor's hand wrapped around his neck and pulled until their foreheads touched, the sticky beads of sweat plastering them together. "Yuri, what do you want to do?"

_What do I want to do?!?_ Brown eyes widened as the thoughts of just everything he wanted to do seized him into a frozen state of overwhelmed. _Victor and I haven't… I don't know how to say it_. I want… his thoughts ran rampant, the pictures of the manga Victor plucked from his shelf the other day playing over and over until his body was superimposed beneath Victor's, his mouth hung open in ecstasy like all the times he had read over those pages in his youth. Blood flooded his face and he shook the desire down as he looked over to the screen. "Ummm…. what movie are we watching?"

A knowing smile crept over Victor's face as he blinked at the sudden change in pace. Seeing the uneasiness resting in the warm brown eyes, he bent to press a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Anastasia. I know it's animated…but it was the only one I could think of that was in English." Victor explained, taking both of their glasses to set on the table. He scrunched back into the couch, the cushions denting as they gave under the weight, letting him sink in comfortably.

"Anastasia? I don't know if I've ever seen it…" Yuri's voice drifted as he leaned back, his shoulder resting against Victor's as he leaned his head back against the couch, his hair splaying as he tilted his eyes to watch the candlelight flickering on the ceiling.

"You would have been… four? When it came out." Victor said, looking up to the ceiling like it was playing a reel of his memories, "Yurio wasn't even born yet! No- Well… I watched it a lot growing up. I was going to skate to one of the music numbers one time…"

Yuri's eyes filled with excitement at the prospect of being able to attribute the movie to one of Victor's skating. "Really? Did you? Maybe I've heard the music then!"

"Ah—no. Other things came up and I couldn't…didn't want to anymore." Victor said, breaking off to look at the screen. "A movie date was perfect, neh Yuri?" he asked, settling in to rest his arms back on Yuri's shoulder.

With a nod, Yuri leaned over to lay his head on Victor's shoulder. _This is my first movie date; everything is my first. But Victor?_ He looked at Victor, his relaxed expression wearing comfortability with having Yuri at his side. Suddenly, Yuri's inexperience weighed heavily on him. Everything he wanted but left in the margins of his mind for Victor to come along and find instead of having to tell him seemed to scream at him for everything he had yet to do, and the thought of what Victor what might have done before gnawed at him. "I'm sure you've… done this before."

"What, a movie date?" Victor asked, cocking his brow. Yuri nodded sheepishly; his eyes cast down. With a squeeze to his shoulder, Victor spoke softly, "Ah…no, I haven't." he said. 

"Really?" Yuri asked, the idea of Victor not having all of the experience typical of a person who had past lovers left Yuri bewildered.

Victor nodded, "Really, I always saw movies with…. Makkachin when I was off-season, or I went by myself."

"What about your fam-"

"Oh, look Yuri! It's starting!" Victor taps excitedly on Yuri's knee. The black screen fades into white as a castle appears on the screen, a woman's voice narrating in the background. The film carried on, and Yuri felt Victor's eyes good from the screen to him, looking for any sign of enjoyment and connection that Yuri was having to what was on screen. As the opening scene fell and the voiceover's soft Russian accent stated, "…but we would never be together in Paris," Yuri watched Victor's jaw clench, his atom's apple bobbing as he swallowed deeply.

Fingers felt at the red plaid blanket as Victor grabbed to hold it. On screen, a train sped away, leaving a young girl behind. He draped the blanket over their legs, coming back to nuzzle into Yuri, pecking his cheeks as the scene faded to a girl, now older, leaving an orphanage. She begins to sing, lilting and melodic in a Broadway manner stopping to turn away from where she is supposed to and head to St. Petersburg. The sign makes Victor giddy and he smiles wide, looking over for Yuri's reaction. Absentmindedly, Victor sings in key with the girl, "Home… Love…family…there was once a time I must have had them too." His voice is deep and soothing, the baritone coaxing in a way Yuri had never heard Victor's voice before. He leaned in further on Victor's clavicle, the vibrations of the song soothing as Victor sang.

The movie went on with quiet between them as the main character, who they kept calling Anya, returned to the palace. The ghosts of a memory dazzling and dancing as she sang about her memories, her sweet voice calling, "Once Upon a December." As the movie played, Yuri began to think of the name Anya, his mind wondering what the nickname meant if everyone used it. _I know Katya called Victor, Vitya. Yakov does, too…but Yurio doesn't… no one else seems to. Does it mean something? _

Scooping his courage up inside himself, Yuri stuttered. "Victor…why does K- Y-Yakov call you Vitya?"

Pulled from a scene where the characters were in the middle of a climactic will they or won't they escape the peril of a runaway train, Victor shook his head, processing the out of place question. "Oh, it's a Russian thing. A diminutive. Like a nickname. Friends, family, lovers use them."

"…Oh," Yuri said, sinking back down into the cushions.

Curiosity wore on Victor as he tried to assess the burgeoning anxiety rising inside Yuri. He tilted his head as he asked, "Why? Did you want to call me Vitya?"

Not ever having the thought cross his mind to call Victor anything other than Victor, Yuri froze, his eyes widened as he thought. "Oh…ummm…. You've always been my Victor so…"

Pink tinted the tips of Victor's nose as he smiled, once again surprised by the sincerest of Yuri's action. He squeezed tightly, his arm sliding over Yuri as he drew their lips into a kiss, staying just a moment so the pressure still lingered like a ghost as he pulled away. "I like being your Victor." He said, pressing back into the kiss as the movie flickered behind, abandoned to the swell of lips as they puckered together. Weaving the thread of lips against lips, Victor sank into it, his hand moving to cup Yuri's chin and pull him closer.

The bubbling sensation burst bright as Yuri opened his mouth, welcoming the taste of champagne still on Victor's tongue as it swirled inside. Hands went wandering over Yuri's body, running down his spine as Victor twisted, his back leaning into the giant plush teddy behind him. Following the need for their mouths pressed together, Yuri chased as his legs rose beneath him, crawling until he sat on Victor's lap. His bated breaths leaving his chest heaving as his spiked fell around, framing the wanton and wild look on his face.

Victor could hang that look on a wall if he were able. Deep dark eyes beginning to glow red beneath the iris, cheeks flushed and sucked lips pinked and flaming with the need to be kissed again; that was more than Victor could take. His fingers threaded through the back of Yuri's hair pulling him down until his chest was flush against his as he felt Yuri's fingers grab at his neck, their mouths locking together. Mouths to mouths, lips wet and smacking back and forth bringing the heat between them to an unbearable fire, burning everything away but desire. Victor rolled his hips to the pace of their natural rhythm, his jeans dragging against Yuri's as he heard Yuri's breath hitch, a soft mewl escaping as he rocked his hips once more. To his surprise, Yuri's hips bucked on top of him, grinding subtly against Victor just so their strained arousals caught over one another.

The fire raging inside and out, Victor sought skin. His hands moved up and down, working at the waist of Yuri's jeans to tug out his undershirt. Once freed, his fingers stopped pretending to not go for what he was after, dipping beneath the band of Yuri's boxer briefs and finding the supple rounded flesh beneath. He kneaded the skin, squishing and squeezing as he continued to give Yuri's mouth the attention of his own. Victor felt a tug on his hair as Yuri squeaked, gasping as his fingers pushed further down, groping full on either side as they moved their way inward, squeezing as they dipped into the crevice.

"Nghhhh….Ahh…" Yuri moaned softly, his body rocking back into Victor's hands.

Victor perked up, "Oh! You want to…" he trailed off.

Yuri nodded rapidly, squeaking a needy whine as he leaned forward, shaking with want against Victor's shoulder as he released a breathy, "Please."

Victor pushed him to the length of his shoulders, his eyes intent. "We need to get home. Now."


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much spicy katsudon. Feel free to skip if it is not your thing!

Chapter 24

A scarlet line of the bar lights reflected on the blacktop, rivers of wet snowdrift pooling where the salt melted it hours before when the hub of the tire spun next to it. Droplets of water sputtered from beneath, making a miniature rainstorm. Still, heat-struck, the tip of his nose fogging the glass as he peered through the window, Yuri tried to focus on the buildings flashing by as Victor drove home. Though the passion packed moment died down, Victor showing Yuri the remaining scenes of the movie, desire still webbed beneath the surface, sticky and binding in his center. His eyes drifted from the blobs of neon-lit signs to the swoop of silver taking up half view. Even in the window, Yuri could see the gleam of white as Victor bit into his bottom lip, his eyes steadied on the road.

Nothing left to lose, Yuri chanced a glance over, watching Victor’s jawline draw taught. The tips of his fingers flexed, dragging along the outer seams of his jeans as Yuri’s thoughts tarried on the electricity still pestering him. Visions of Victor’s hand-molded to his backside, pushing further in crowded any logical or functional proclivities from sight. Yet, when he tossed his head to the side, Victor’s face wasn’t the same rush of calm and genuine enthusiasm that wore on him almost constantly. Though his eyes still dipped with the layers of water, the dark sapphire rims shining in the same way they did every time he spoke in his salacious tone, they were focused, even calculative. Nothing about the look Yuri expected. “T-thank you for tonight,” Yuri weakly attempted to coax Victor out of his thoughts.

“Yes, of course.” The bridge of his smile bending into a heart, even as his jaw remained clenched.

_I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s never been so wound before…._ Yuri thought, his fingers finding the hem of his sweater, pulling at cream-colored weaving. _Is it me? Did I do something wrong?_ The bearings he found in those few moments he could articulate what he wanted vanished in the silence building in the air, suffocating the calm as Yuri’s nerves tried to push for control. Suddenly he was back in the hotel in the Cup of China, trying to absolve his thoughts while Victor rested on his chest. Yuuri’s anxiety never paired well with his desires and all of the thoughts of what he wanted to happen left him as restless as he was that day. He swallowed thickly, “Victor… I’ve been thinking….”

With a whip of the steering wheel, Victor darted into the other lane. Unphased by the screeching brakes nor the blaring horn, he snapped his head to look at Yuri. “What? Have you changed your mind? It’s okay, you can. I won’t be disappointed.” Victor’s words rolled off his tongue without a breath between, a rapid-fire of confusion and desperation stretching his voice like a bent twig.

“Oh, erm-no. Just…” Yuri’s voice trailed off, the attempt to put what he wanted to say into English raising the heat in his blood until a flush popped over his cheeks.

“Do you need me to explain it to you? I’ll just take my….” Victor’s lifted his hands from the wheel as he motioned, extending his index in the air for emphasis. A bright white light beamed through the windshield, blinding Yuuri from the sight of almost coming head-on with another vehicle. Victor jerked the wheel within a fraction of a second before colliding, skidding back and forth along the icy road until he fully gained control.

Arms flailed as panic seared into Yuuri’s veins, his body resetting from the jostle as he all but stood in his declaration. “NO!NO!NO! Keep your eyes on the road!” Yuuri screeched. He played with his hands tentatively, trying to decide what to say as his frayed nerves calmed. “I get it…just… does it hurt?”

Silence edged into the awkwardness, the unwanted lull raising the hackles on Yuri’s skin as Victor mulled over the possibilities. “It can.”

“Oh,” Yuri said, almost surprised. The brevity of the answer only gave Yuri more questions but trying to pry those from his mouth became futile. Tacky, dry, and rough, his mouth left nothing but sand in trying to form words. Shrinking into himself, Yuri pulled his arms in, trying to escape the possibilities, but found the warm long stretch of fingers interlacing with his.

Victor’s hand warmed over the chilled and pink tips of his fingers. “But that won’t be a problem.” His voice softly reassured, giving a squeeze of his hand for emphasis.

“Why?”

Yuri’s held hand found it’s way over the partition as Victor dragged it over, pressing his lips gently against the ring, “Because I’ll take care of you.”

Knowing how to care for someone and that someone being Yuri became two polarizing opposites frantically pulling for control in the remnants of Victor’s mind as he pulled into the parking. Two beeps of the car alarm clicking on and Victor swept around the car, his coat jacket sweeping along the glittering blue rim of the trunk. Nothing else up until this point could cause Yuuri any pain, only pleasure. Victor’s eyes glided over his body, the soft edges covered by Yuri’s oversized sweater and coat, still bumping out with the round plush of his backside-the same one that wiggled against his groin as Yuri asked Victor to be his coach in Sochi.

_I know Yuri should be nervous, but I can’t help but hold my breath. He’s… I really want this next step to be perfect. _Victor kept a steady hand over Yuri’s shoulder, latching his fingers over his frame with the same gentle pull to keep Yuri close as always. He felt Yuri sink into the holding, leaning in until the strands of his hair brushed against Yuri’s cheek.

With the champagne long filtered out of their systems, the stroll up to the apartment moved languidly, the quiet comfort and tingles of excitement creating static energy that needed to be sustained. The click of the door lock opening unlocked the air between them, and as the door flung open, Victor whipped Yuri around. Lips pressed to lips as fingers gingerly weaved into the soft black tendrils of Yuri’s hair, lessening the gap between them. Each kiss began a new step forward as Victor’s hands rounded beneath the shoulders of Yuri’s coat, pressing into the dip to peel him out of the still cold bitten layer. Victor’s fingers ghosted against Yuri’s neck as he felt Yuri startle a breath, his fingers warming against the skin as he moved to deepen the kiss, meeting his tongue to flit against the opening, and finding an overwhelming yes of a response as Yuri let his mouth open, the gap easily closed as they played with one another.

Lips wandered from the side of Yuri’s mouth to the side of his jaw, traveling in wet hot smacks on his neckline, Victor sucking with just enough bite to pull a gasp from Yuri’s mouth. The bits of hesitance in Victor’s mind drifted at the sight of Yuri’s flushed cheeks, the hazelnut irises shimmering as he looked down, knowing they both wanted the same thing. A wanton electric bolt resurged through his veins, and Victor started the kisses anew.

Yuri’s back hit the wall as Victor’s fingers pushed beneath the hem of his sweater, lifting the fabric up to his neck until the cool wall sent shivers down his spine at the same moment Victor’s fingers sent heat to his loins. Every riddle of whether or not he was ready for this was answered in Victor’s touch, melting the inhibitions as his palm pressed against the small of Yuri’s back while his mouth sucked and teased his neck. Victor’s name hung on the edge of every gasp and squeak Yuri tried to choke back, losing desperately as he felt Victor's hand skate over the back of his jeans, squeezing at the flesh he needed to be touched.

_A-are we going to do this here? Against the wall? _Yuri’s baffled thoughts couldn’t break the momentum built up inside him as Victor's knee stepped between either of his own, causing his arousal to twitch awake, hardening at the thought as he opened his legs more, inviting whatever was to come. Just as he felt Victor’s breath hot against the exposed flesh of his chest, he also felt the frigid wetness of another object…a black nose. 

“EEEK!” Yuri shrieked, quickly pulling his hand back until it whapped Victor in the face, causing him to flinch in confusion. “Ah, gomen!”

“Makkachin, don’t put your nose there!” Victor scolded through a laugh, bringing his attention to scruff at the brown curls of Makkachin’s jowls. “I guess I should let you out, shouldn’t I?” With a turn, he rose to his full height, just enough space to press a kiss into Yuuri’s knit brow. “I’m still dressed so I’ll let Makkachin out and be right back. Okay?” The askew strands of black hair went wild as Yuri shook his head in agreement, tiny wisps of his bangs bending down to tickle his nose. Victor patted his side and Makkachin happily trotted along his side, following him back out the door.

As the emptiness of the apartment settled with the last fading steps outside the door, a new panic sparked in Yuri. Suddenly, everything seemed wrong. His hands raked through his hair to try to fold back the wayward strands as he tossed off his shoes making a straight line passed the bathroom on his way to the bedroom. _Should I shower? Should I…._ what lingered in the last part of what he should do or not do caused him to shake his head in spite of himself as he stepped in front of the mirror, gazing over the reflection of himself. He studied himself, over the strong thick brow and his still rounded cheeks even though his jaw was thin and body allover taught. Unfurling out of his sweater, he kicked his jeans off simultaneously until it was just his bare skin and the top of his blue briefs looking at him. _Victor wants me…wants this…I want this…._

The pounding of his heart boomed inside his head, but he nodded back at himself, resolute. Unwinding his sock over his ankles his tossed them to the side as he entered the bedroom doors, looking over at his dresser. With a tug, he pulled open the top drawer, the light-hued wood almost camouflaging his fingers as he sifted through his undergarments. Most of them were all the same…save for one pair. A wide smile peaked at the sides of his mouth; his face full of glee like the first time he held what would be his Eros costume in his hands knowing what he would do. Slinking out of his mundane navy shorts, he held up the lace ones, the black sheen and almost see-through. Brown eyes followed the curves and windings of the design, taking one more deep swallow before stepping into them. Fingers ran over the texture, trancing the bumps that ran along his hips when he heard the sound of a door opening.

Frantically, Yuri skittered over the floorboard, barely placing his soles to the wood before diving into the bed. He nipped his glasses off his face and reached to set them gently on the nightstand. _Victor bought these for me. He… he wanted to see me in these. _Yuri reassured himself once more as he fleshed out the bedspread, smoothing the wrinkles with the palm of his hand. The sound of shoes knocking against the wood echoed through the hallway, and Yuri imagined Victor slipping off his loafers, unfurling his scarf and coat before tucking them away in the closet. His tongue wet the tip of his bottom lip as he heard footsteps padding closer and closer, his breath still in his throat as the doorknob twisted, the hall light flooding in as the door swung open.

“Yuri, I thought we…” Victor’s words lost all-purpose as he caught the view in front of him. Blue eyes rushed over the sight of Yuri, his hands resting on his knees with a slight tremble, but the depth of his brown eyes beckoned him forward.

“What?” Yuri asked, the mask of red tinting his cheeks making Victor grin.

“You’re perfect.” Victor purred as he stepped forward, beginning to undress. How many times had it been where Yuri was lasciviously undressed, and Victor hadn’t even started? Too many, Yuri assessed. Knees pressed into the mattress, Yuri climbing closer to the edge of the bed, pressing a hand over Victor’s as he looked up, the glimmer of a smirk resting in the corner of his mouth as his eyes sparkled a red merlot mingling with a dark chocolate Victor would drink with every meal. He relinquished his hands to let Yuri untangle him out of his clothes, relishing in the feel of Yuri’s hands exploring along the line of his belt, and the thick line of his arousal stiffening beneath.

Yuri moved up to wrap one hand on the back of Victor’s neck while the other toyed with the belt buckle. Lips found lips once more, Yuri pushing in with comfort and confidence as he held his lips flesh to Victor’s, breathing in the musk of his cologne before beginning the kiss anew. Yuri’s kisses were seeking, sensual, soft and strong and every bit as intoxicating as Yuri had been that night in Sochi. Victor lavished in it, giving little bites and nibbled on the edge of Yuri’s lips that had Yuri squirming just enough that Victor laughed into the kiss, his breath hot and warming against Yuri’s cool skin.

The pace began to pick up, Yuri’s string of kisses becoming quick as his tongue swirled around Victors. Hands moved to break Victor out of his pants, letting them drop to the floor as Victor move back with a gasp to toss his top to join his pants. Both scantily clad, Victor braced either side of Yuri’s shoulders guiding him back over the smooth comforter. Brushing away some of the black strands of hair as he looked down at Yuri, Victor smiled, bending down to meet their mouths together. Only to feel the weight of Yuri’s arms pushing against him, rolling him over until his bac met the cool part of the comforter, sending shivers up his spine.

Perplexed, he furrowed his brows together as he watched Yuri rise, the black lace sheen shining against the lamplight. “Yuri, what about….” Victor began, only to find a thin finger pressed against his lips.

“You always let me go first…I…want to make you feel good, too,” Yuri said before removing the finger and pressing a gentle kiss against his jawline. Each arm raised behind Victor's hands as he laid back, threading his fingers behind the this of silver strands as he watched with an intrigued grin on his face. _Yuri, you always surprise me. _

The swell of heat beneath his briefs twitched as Yuri ran a single finger, mapping the contour of his chest like an exploration for him and him alone. Bits of black dusted along the tight indentions of Victor’s muscles as Yuri kissed, at first barely a touch but warming with wetness as he moved down over his chest. The top of his round meaty backside covered in lace making Victor begin to writhe at the sight of it as Yuri scooted downward. The met heat of his tongue teased at the brim of Victor’s brief, pausing only enough to hook his fingers in pulling the binding down as his arousal sprang free, bobbing against his stomach as the release electrified Victor, emulsifying the fire that began at the theatre more.

A shiver ran through Victor, pulling out until he kicked his leg as Yuri gripped firmly around the length, pulling up to piston but finding the dryness difficult to navigate. Inexperience bit at him in his mind and he slowed his motions, trying to twist and grip in the ways Victor had shown him.

“Oh, here…” Victor said as he reached into the drawer, retrieving a clear bottle from within and tossing it to Yuri.

It fumbled through his fingers as Yuri tried to read the label, the text completely unbeknownst to him. Yet, the clear silky liquid was easy enough to understand for its purpose. “We’ve had this the whole time?” Yuri cocked his head as he flipped the cap, letting a bit of the content dribble over Victor’s stiff length.

“Ah…y-yeah… I forgot.” Victor stuttered at the unsuspecting cold hitting his sensitive area, quirking a brow as he heard a stifled giggle beneath Yuri’s hands. The second of chill lay forgotten as Yuri’s fingers wrap once more, the smooth continual glide heating with the friction of every pump, every twist. The way Yuri’s hand switched from firm to loose, leaving Victor groaning deeply, canting his hips to thrust into the fist. Victor closed his eyes, sinking into the sensation of Yuri’s venture to seeking all of the pleasures that make Victor bend, saying Yuri’s name broken and long, saturated in sex and passion in a way that made Yuri coil inside.

Each pump a brazen pleasure, moving up and down until it becomes matched with the wet heat of Yuri’s mouth. Tongue sliding over the swelled and reddened stiff flesh, swirling over the head and then back down again in a way that Victor would play on repeat if he could capture Yuri’s mouth puckered around him. His back arched to the feeling of Yuri’s mouth sinking to the hilt, twisting and pulling up. Black lashes fluttered as Yuri dove down, taking as much as he could before turning back up, brown eyes looking up to see Victor’s blues fixated on him. _He’s not looking away. _Yuri thought as he bobbed over and over, determined to saturate every inch in his mouth as he hollowed his cheeks, dipping and pulling and his hand gripped the base, hearing a deep hum of praise in reward.

Victor’s chest heaved as he panted heavy to Yuri’s continued ministrations pulling him closer and closer to the brink. He reached his hand to run over the smooth flesh of Yuri’s shoulder, moaning a groan as Yuri’s tongue grazed beneath the sensitive patch of skin beneath the head. As a trap set back, the tight wind in Victor’s groin snapped forward, spilling out hot and glossy white over Yuri’s hands and mouth.

“Yu-uri…..mmmm” Victor spoke through breaths as the rush of orgasm still pulsing through his system. “You’re amazing.” His voice barely broke a breath of air as he exhaled, letting his arms fall heavily to either side. His eyes wandered over Yuri, watching him wipe the corners of his mouth dry as he smiles contentedly to himself. “Yuri, have you ever…ummm…yourself?” Victor questioned, the mattress shifting as he turned to his side, propping himself up by his elbow.

With wide eyes, Yuri shook his head side to side, embarrassment wearing on his cheeks. The few memories of mishaps and failed attempts swarm in the back to the front of Yuri’s mind and he raised his hand upward to try and bat them away. A giggle pulled from Victor’s mouth as he reached to pull Yuri forward, his lips caressing over Yuri’s until all thoughts expelled from his mind. Only the feeling of tingling lips meshing together remained, and he melted into the moment as Victor led him onto his back.

Black hair splayed around the pillow as Victor stared down at Yuri, the kissed glow of lust shining as his bated breaths pushed his chest up and outward, falling down over the sculpted muscle Victor helped him the craft. Hands roamed from thigh up over his chest as Victor peppered kisses along Yuri’s neckline, listening to the soft mewls and gasps he got in return. His lips traveled further as he grabbed a pillow, offering it to Yuri to settle beneath him. _Yuri’s so beautiful. _Victor couldn’t help but beam inward as his palm pressed against Yuri’s inner thigh, teasing beneath the lace for a moment before coming back out. Victor came up to draw one more kiss from Yuri’s lips as his fingers nestled beneath the briefs, nudging themselves as Yuri offered his tiled hips, twitching at the relief of finally being let out of his captivity.

Hands searched through the covers until Victor found the forgotten bottle, grinning as he tipped it over the drizzle the contents on his hand, letting his own body warmth heat up the viscous liquid. Yuri mewled as the slick touch, the weeping drips of his own wetness meshing as Victor rubbed over his length, up and down and around as he watched Yuri relax into the sensation before dragging his hand further down, circling the entrance as he watched Yuri’s hands grasp at the blankets.

Yuri felt the finger ghost over, the electricity jolting his body as he flinched from the touch. As if testing, Victor’s hand moved from his waist to wrap around behind sinking his tongue to drag across just below the navel as his hand grabbed at Yuri’s backside, kneaded and squeezing as he dragged his tongue over Yuri’s stiff flesh, the wet strip causing his body to spasms, back arching as Victor took him whole into his mouth. He gave one more gentle squeeze to Yuri before letting him fall back to the pillow while one hand went to grab at the base while the other nudged against the entrance.

Pressing in, the heat melding around his finger, Victor probed only slightly, the tip of his digit barely moving as he tested Yuri’s comfort level. Hooking his finger, he pressed against the soft inside, looking for that bit of flesh he could use to bring Yuri out of orbit and into an entirely new sphere.

All of the ideas Yuri compiled for this moment fled as Victor’s fingers gently nudged at the walnut-sized bundle of nerves in the center. “Nhghn…AA-AA…” Brown eyes flew open as he smacked his hand over his mouth, stifling the scream as his hips canted forward, searching for Victor’s finger to find that spot again.

Every dip was met with a press below, and Yuri writhed under the attention, all his senses alight with the flood of electricity pulsing over and over. This wasn’t about control. Nor power. They were both seducers, seducing each other over and over irresistibly so, and Yuri craved the power stretching within him. This was Eros, pure pleasure, and Yuri anchored himself the to volts of currants ebbing into his shoreline. He wanted this, exactly this and more and in every possible way he could have Victor within himself- he yearned for it. The full feeling of Victor pressing against his heat while he delivered the wet wrap of his mouth around Yuri’s arousal sent convulsions throughout his entire body. Yuri keened, buckling as the jittering sensation beat and thrummed and pushed him to an oblivion he had not conceived possible.

As the last bit of salted spill ran down the back of Victor’s throat, he pulled up, releasing the now softened and tender flesh to rest gently against Yuri’s abdomen. Silver fringe stuck to his scalp from the bits of sweat still cooling in the afterglow. Ha wrapped his arm around Yuri’s waist, dragging him up until his cheek rested against his chest. 

Silence grew nimbly in the remaining moments as Yuri still twitched every so often, the burst of that orgasm still lingering within his veins. He felt Victor’s hand gliding over his back soothingly as the feeling still thrummed up his spine. “Victor when…” he traveled off his thought

As if brought back from a daze, Victor looked down, “Hmmm?”

“Well, we didn’t…. I thought you were going to….”

“Oh!” Victor’s eyes popped as he considered what Yuri hinted to. A devilish smirk came over his mouth as Victor gave his mischievously perky voice, “When you win gold at Four Continents.”

“Victor!” Yuri protested, only to feel the weight of Victor’s arms envelop him in a hug, swinging him back and forth as Victor nuzzled in through the top of his head.

“My Yuuri’s going to take gold, and then I’m going to take him!”

“VICTOR!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thanks for your patience.
> 
> I kept this chapter where it is because I haven't decided if I'm going to time skip to 4CCC's or if I have anything else to add. With this being slice of life, basically anything small can happen in between. So, I thought I'd ask you all. Is there anything you'd like to see Victor and Yuri do before the competition?


	25. 25

Beneath the sheets, everything felt soft next to Victor. The cool dew of morning settled on the outside, but below the heat of two bodies was enough to burn out the frigid Russian winter air. Yuri began to rouse awake, noting a twinge as he stirred up his spine. It stung but was minor compared to what he expected. Not that he didn’t expect more to happen last night, but what happened allowed him to sink in blissful contentment. Yuri knew more of himself in those moments than he felt he ever did. What he wanted appeared tangibly before him, and for once he knew he could reach for star and pluck it straight out of the sky.

Yuri sensed skin brush against the backside of his thigh, warm and tender as Victor inched closer against the back of Yuri’s frame, sliding his leg behind Yuri’s own. An arm wrapped around his waist, squeezing further until Yuri’s back curved over every one of Victor’s muscles on his chest. He sighed. Nothing could possibly feel better than having Victor at his side, nosing through his strands of hair until Victor reached his earlobe, placing a kiss there.

“Mmmh, you’re awake.” Victor’s voice was raking from the dryness the night brought, the texture hoarse and gravel. Just another thing Yuri loved about mornings. Victor’s voice eased his mind until he nearly floated back into space. “You aren’t usually up this early.” Victor finished, this time placing a kiss on Yuri’s bare shoulder.

Voice still stifled in his groggy mind, Yuri searched for other ways to explain just how even in this gelatinous state of his limbs, the fire from the night before rekindled in his belly. Victor’s lips made his entire flesh tingle, his mind filling with the need to be touched, felt, caressed in all the places that put him on the precipice for so long and so good until it tipped over. Yuri wanted to spill again and again under Victor’s skillful fingers, and more when the time was right.

Victor himself was still humming with the satisfaction of the night before as he stretched his legs, letting his feet flex before bringing them back in behind Yuri. Yuri’s skin was silk and cream, and on this particular morning, still very sensitive as Victor caressed his thigh, running his hand from hip to waist until Yuri started turning in. Delighting in Yuri’s back arching under his touch, Victor reached between the cleft of his cheeks, pressing his middle finger to the entrance. Yuri squirmed, canting his hips backward until his finger nearly slipped into the breach. “You want to, again?” he breathed against Yuri’s neck and watched as Yuri dipped his head back, his whine practically aching with need. Victor worked, steady and slowly, one hand in the front and the other with his finger behind, allowing the haze of the early morning to gently nudge Yuri to climax.

“We’ll have to change the sheets this time.” Victor cooed afterward, still holding a panting Yuri between his arms.

Brown eyes peeked through the strands of black, the length of his bang nearly touching mid-cheek now. “What about you?” Yuri asked, an anxious look growing more anxious by the second. 

What about him? Hearing the noises of Yuri’s soft whimpers was more than enough. _Doing that was enough for me. _Looking up to the ceiling, Victor pondered for a moment, before turning to entangle himself further into Yuri. “This morning was about you, my cute little Yuuri.”

.

.

.

.

_Lights! Camera! FLASH, FLASH, FLASH_

“Mr. Nikiforov look this way!” the snazzy photographer shouted; his smile wide enough that his goatee pressed against his chest. On cue, Victor turned in the direction of the lenses, playfully flirting his eyes, his pout pressed together skillfully. “Perfect! “the man cooed, dropping to his knee to angle correctly. Catching Victor in a pose is not hard to do, but it seemed every direction mattered.

Another flash. Victor let his arm hang loose at his side, his eyes now daring as the blue hues danced downward. The maroon velvet scarf hung over his suit, light grey and tailored to fit every muscle and contour of his body flawlessly. He stood back against the bright backdrop, waiting for another instruction. Each position followed into the next, Victor moving to whatever role the director suggested, or the photographer asked. Carefully, he placed his hand on his hip, tossing his head until his silver fringe swept back.

A yawn escaped Yuri’s mouth as he leaned against the wall, the darkness of his spot reminding him how he woke much earlier than his usual time. He twiddled with his phone between his hand, pressing a few answers for the character in the game on his screen. Three more flashes in a row, bright and intrusive even in Yuri’s space back against the wall. Surprised, Yuri tried to blink away the purple and blue splotches in front of his eyes, the dots impeding his ability to see his screen making him increasingly agitated.

_Why did I agree to come to this photoshoot, anyway?.... Oh, right… the posters. _Yuri thought, casting his eyes to catch a glimpse at Victor. The swell of the lighting around him, along with his pale hair and features, cast Victor in an ethereal glow even if he was wearing something Victor wore practically every day while coaching at events. _So, this is what it is like for Victor every time? _Yuri thought, dreamily escaping into his room in Hasetsu. How many posters had he hung up over the years? Each one driving him to be better until the very man himself showed up…

“Do that thing with your finger! Everyone loves that thing with your finger!”

“Hah!?!?!” Yuri jolted as he shrieked, nearly throwing his phone. His shoulder smacked against the concrete wall and he winced angrily. All the recent intimate moments sparking in his mind, his eyes darted forward, locking in with Victor’s. Even in the darkness, Yuri’s doe hearing the bullet eyes frantically searched Victor for any sign that what Victor is doing with his finger is not what Victor _does with his finger. _

But, nothing was below par. Victor pressed his finger over his lip, letting his bang tickle the tip of his index finger. Same as so many of the photos Yuri had seen before. Whatever he did, it seemed to please the photographer as his eyes grew elated. He brought the camera back up to his eye as he praised, “Ah, yeah. Just like that. Just like you want to make love to the camera. I bet all your fans would like that. Right? Panty dropper.”

_Fans would like anything Victor does. He’s Victor. _Yuri’s eyes turned inward, crossing until his nose blurred in front of him. The barrage of flashes brought another set of blinding blotches in front of him. Now without much sight and the pit of his stomach aching for something to fill the nauseating tug hearing the phrase “make love to the camera” followed by “fans” and then “panty dropper” left him with. Perhaps something deep-fried, battered. Maybe just a little sweet, but also savory.

Katsudon. His mouth began to salivate on just the thought. Then, one thought turning to another, as the cherry blossoms outside his bedroom window would bloom for a moment, and then falls, Yuuri’s thoughts returned to all the places of home. He pressed a few buttons on his phone, putting it up to his ear as the ringing tone faded in and out.

“Moshi, Moshi.” The light, almost laughing voice on the other end made his heart warm. How long had it been since he heard his mother’s hello? A month? New year’s?

“Moshi. Moshi” Yuri replied, a giggle in his voice,

[How are things? I’m sorry to call if it’s busy]

[All good! No one’s on vacation this time of year.] his mother’s chipper tone drowned out whatever the photographer told Victor to do next. Flip of hair here. Turn there. It didn’t matter.

[Oh. Right.]

A rustle sounded on the other side of the phone, followed by a full-bellied cackle. [It will pick up soon. Send us some posters!]

[Dad!] Yuri scolded, but as quickly as he got out the name he heard muffled tones of angry, and albeit slightly slurred Japanese.

[Yuri! You sound like your slouching!]

[Mi-Minako-sensei!]

[You aren’t showing your bad habits in front of Victor, are you? He never slouches!] Minako’s scolding straightened Yuri’s spine. His eyes searched the room, finding Victor seated on a stool now. _Victor doesn’t slouch…. _

[Yuri! Are you listening to me?!?! What have you and Victor been doing? When are you coming back?]

[Y-yes Minako-sensei!] he paused, considering just how to answer that question. It would be about the same as admitting that time he bruised his tailbone falling off the bed had less to do with practicing a jump and way more to do with the new poster on his wall, thoroughly securing his fear of ever doing that by himself again. However, with Victor… he shook his head. _I’m not telling her we’ve been doing…that.. _[ Uhm, sometime after World’s.]

[Ahh, maybe having Victor back then will drum up more business. Skating dropped off again.]

[Oh.]

Saying goodbye left a dull ache in Yuri. If what Minako said was true, then the first sanctuary throughout his life might face shutting down. _I could call and talk to Yuuko-san, but… talking to people is such a chore… _

Furthermore, his thoughts couldn’t be contained to only Yuuko and the Ice Castle. His mind moved forward, thinking about the state of emptiness the town sank to by the time Yuri appeared there last year. Hasetsu was always a sleepy town, the lavish of rest and relaxation a staple for tourism, but before Victor, Hasetsu was almost a shadow at noon. Victor not only brought Yuri back to skating, but he also breathed life back into the town. _ I wonder how I can ever repay him for everything? What would be equal to his beauty?_

Every idea that popped in Yuri’s mind didn’t seem to reach the same level of equivalency to that of Victor Nikiforov. Victor was a brilliant luminescent light in an un-seeable dark; a firework that never faded. _But, there are no fireworks this time of year here. _Yuri inwardly cursed to himself, his gut sinking as he ran dry of ideas. What else was Victor? Yuri looked up the see the shimmer of the light glance over his silver strands. Radiant. Strong. Ever blooming. _He’s always surprising me. Not even just in skating. My entire life is a never-ending surprise with him by my side. _ The vision reminded him of walking through the gardens in Fukuoka after a rainstorm. Beads of rain cascading down over the brightly colored hued petals. Yellow, pinks, blues, each glimmering with dew.

A flush bloomed over his cheeks in the same color of the poppy flower he just thought of, pink and glowing. He whipped out his phone, typing frantically into the search bar. _Perfect! _

“Get a photo with us! Yuri, so cute! Come!” Victor guffawed, his eyes dazzling blue as he held his arms out wide and inviting.

Yuri hitched a surprised breath at the request, slumping his shoulders downward to try to creep away as he made excuses, “Ah….I’m not really dressed… Your fans won’t like it… if it’s me.”

The photographer clapped a lid on his lens, the sound drawing Yuri from his mumbling. “We really need to wrap up.”

Victor beamed even brighter if that was possible. “Our fans will love it!” he chirped to Yuri before turning to the photographer, “And you get the first official photographs of us together!”

“Yes, sir. We- we definitely have time for that!” the photographer said, letting the cap fall from his camera.

Reluctantly, Yuri stepped over to where Victor is, feeling the weight of Victor’s arms as they wrapped around his shoulder. Victor tugged him close until their checks rested against one another. Within the confines of Victor’s arms, Yuri released the tension from his shoulders, even if he could barely manage a weak smile as the camera flashed a few times before him.

When the last blip of light from the camera finally went off, Victor finally released him from his hold, saying some sort of thanks to the photographer. It mattered little to Yuri, who’s eyes lingered on Victor and the way his pants perfectly accentuated all of his features.

_They’ve had Victor all day. I want my time with him. _ Yuri grabbed hold of Victor’s hand. “Victor, I’m taking you on a date!”

“REALLLY?!?”

.

.

.

.

“Ah, this wasn’t really what I had in mind…” Yuri stated, his hand rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed. What he envisioned of the blossoming green leaves and circulating petals was stripped by winter to the bare bark of trees and bushes. They passed the snow bidden pathway silently, shoes crunching into the snow the only sound. Yuri looked around, the only green still prominent was the paint on the fence, and even that was covered in white.

“It’s still beautiful. Even bare.” Victor said, finding Yuri’s hand to take into his own. He threaded their fingers, the warmth in their interlocked hands enough to let them fall between them even in the chilly air.

“We have gardens like these in Japan, at least what it looked like online,” Yuri explained.

“The summer gardens are really beautiful after winter. We should come back.” Victor said as he stared up into the overcast sky. Yuri nodded, but let Victor enjoy his thoughts while they continued their way through the winding path.

The blanketed earth stilled the garden, muffling the world into a place Yuri could think. _I didn’t think I’d have Victor for a moment. Now he’s by my side. _He thumbed his finger, feeling the ring there. _In the past two months, this ring has become apart of me. Victor has become a part of me in ways I never thought possible. _

Without a thought, he stepped into Victor’s space, leaning on his toes just enough to press a kiss to Victor’s cold cheek. “Thank You.”

“For what?”

“For being Victor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short, sweet chapter before the start of Four Continents!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost in Translation: Valentine's day Edition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In dedication to the memory of my mother, Susan. Who gave me a flower every hour of my eighteenth birthday while we were stuck traveling. She taught me to love surprises.

As many mornings when dawn encroached on the horizon outside their bedroom in St. Petersburg, Yuri wished ardently that even a speck of sun would rise as he leaned grouchily against the countertop. Yet, the new day would not creep open its bright sunlit eye for another…three hours? Yuri looked at the time on his watch, moaning as he tried to shut his eyes. _Whose idea was it to take a flight at 5 am? _Yuri’s agitated thoughts lamented as he groaned, “_Oh, right.”_

More chipper than the song of birds, Victor bounced through the apartment, grabbing the last bits of necessities and tossing them into his carry-on. “We have the passports?”

“Mhnm”

“And the converters?”

“Mhhmmmmm” the agitation is his voice growled in his throat as Yuri began slowly slinking down lower on the metal surface, its coolness making heckles rise on Yuri’s forearm.

“What about kisses?”

“Hmm?” before he could cock his eyes open, he felt the warm press of lips smushing on his cheek. And then his forehead, his ear, his neck, lips brushing fast and sweet as Victor hummed noises into each peck.

The onslaught of affection tickled Yuuri’s skin, and in his overstimulated mind, he whined, pushing Victor to arm’s length. “Victor!?! It’s too early!”

“It’s never too early for kisses, Yuuri.” Victor pouted but turned, bending down on one knee. He let his fingers stretch into the fur, nuzzling his face against Makkachin. “Makkachin doesn’t think it’s too early for kisses.” Victor dragged the poodle’s jowls down, letting them hang before pulling them to the side, “The sitter will come every day, so don’t get into anything while she’s gone!” he scolded, waiting the appropriate amount of time that the dark brown eyes looking at him would blink in acknowledgment. 

Between the sounds of Victor’s coos to Makkachin and the quiet pants of the poodle’s reply, Yuri’s eyes drew heavy as he closed his lids, lashes splayed and spackled together. His doze felt like only moments. Slowly, his body going lax, he dipped lower and lower until he slipped off the counter, hitting the floor with a smack. Eyes shot open as he snapped awake, clamoring for his phone that flung just out of reach. He stretched his fingers, grasping the edges the bring it near. Blinking at the harsh light assaulting his fuzzy senses, his pupils adjusted, and he lurched up, arms flapping as he saw the time. “Victor, we’re going to miss our flight!”

***

“Victor…” Yuri protested, looking thoroughly beleaguered as once again, he stepped through the partition between coach and business class. Aeroflot, at least, ran as late as Victor did, and by the time they tossed their bags on the belt and boarded, the business class just began loading. The empty cabin with blue overstuffed seating still left an uneasy wrench tightening in his gut. _I did like the flight. I slept better. Maybe I should…_

“Do you want to get some champagne this time, Yuri!” Victor threw his arms over his shoulders, pushing them both past the threshold and into the center. He kept himself latched to Yuuri’s back, bits of silver glistening in the peripherals of Yuri’s vision as he kept himself forward, Victor waddling behind.

“Ahh, I’d really just like to sleep.”

“Yuri, we’re going to be on this flight for twelve hours…”

“It’s breakfast time…”

“Ohh, mimosas!”

Nothing could stop Victor’s force of nature so early in the morning. His shoulders slumped down as he sighed. “Alright.” He settled as he slumped into the seat, Victor following in after him. The fabric swished as Victor situated, wrapping his arm over Yuri to let him rest on his chest. Lips pressed in on the top of his head, strands of his hair flattening from the weight. Fingers brushed away bits of his hair, soft skin threading through the strands until the bangs fell to the side out of his eye. Yuri’s mind went blank, slipping into the dark covers of a secure sleep.

For a little while, at least. “The champagne you ordered, Mr. Nikiforov.” An attendant stated in a voice far too perky and too thick in a Russian accent that it drove Yuri right out of slumber. His eyes shot open, almost sneering until he saw the quaint smile on the attendant’s face. Two flutes filled with a light orange liquid sat atop the black tray in her hand, with a stem of some sort draped over one of them. “This one is for you.” She held the tray forward and Yuri curled his fingers around the glass, staring, bewildered, at the long green stem with clusters of bright pink petals clinging to the top.

“Huh? Who is this from?”

“I’m not sure…” the flight attendant shrugged, “I was just told to bring it with this glass.” She nodded before walking away, leaving Yuri to his shock.

“Yuri…” Victor sang out, “Do you have a secret admirer?”

“What?!? Me?” Yuri squeaked. His eyes darting from the petals to the smirk on Victor’s face, “No! I mean…”

“You have a lot of fans… It is February 14th…”

“Hmm…” Yuri’s mind still fogged by the thirst for sleep, the logistics of either of those implications went over his own cognitions. _Minami? Maybe. _He thought, rolling the stem between his fingers before lifting it to his nose, the subtle sweetness a pleasant scent to behold.

The bubbles filtering through the orange juice tingled on his tongue, flirting and popping over Yuri’s taste buds as he sipped, leaning back into the wide chair. As the last bit of mimosa dripped out, the warmth in his cheeks matched the warmth in his hand as it perched on the armrest in the middle, interlocked with Victor’s. His eyes ran over each finger, locking onto the gold on Victor’s finger. _Soon, I’m going to be Mr…_

“Breakfast!” Victor cheered, clapping his hands together as the attendant appeared once again. This time she the cart in front of her held two trays which she set gracefully on either table in front of them. Yuri’s senses flooded with sweet aromas, the steam from the oatmeal in front of him swirling with sugar and hints of cinnamon. As he peered over his course, he noticed another long stem seated diagonally over his tray. It crossed between the bits of vegetables and cheese on one side and over the yogurt. Bits of red bloom spun out in all directions, layered over one another in its sultry hue.

_What is this?!? _Yuri thought as he lifted the flower from the table, dissecting it with his eyes. “H-hah?” he stuttered.

“Oh, Wow!!!!” Victor’s mouth widened into its heart-shaped smile, a playful glint sparkling in his eye as he teased, “Someone must really love you, Yuri…”

“Ah…no! It has to be a mistake!” Yuri stammered as he looked into Victor’s eyes, completely stunned as he was.

Confined to his state of incredulity, Yuri kept the flowers in his hand. Each hour, he accrued another flower. By lunch, six flours lay across his lap. A daffodil drooped its yellow trumpeted head over the pink peony, joined underneath by a magenta hued lilac. Now on top, set Yuri delicately set a white rose.

His mind tried to lure him back into the bay of his anxious thoughts, latching onto the possibilities of who and what and how. Every time the tranquility of sleep washed over him, another flower pulled him back to the shore. Fascicles of white leaves spun around the next one. Then one came with a twin line, either side sprouting with small leaves and petals that peeled back, letting the scent of honey linger in the air.

Some, though he didn’t know by name, contained some inclination of what the flower was. However, as the attendant brought out the next flower balancing on a glass of water, he was at a loss. He ran his fingers gently over the six small yellow clustered spikelet-florets sticking out like star legs. _Why does it feel fuzzy? _He thought as he placed it down to join the others, looking out the window as the plane cut through dense tufts of clouds.

Yuri groaned inwardly as the clacking sounds of the metal cart rolled forward, signaling dinner meals. He gave up hours ago on maintaining any form of sleep, opting to be a shoulder pillow for Victor instead. Fine silver strands trickled over the tan coat as Yuuri lifted his hand to smooth over askew pieces, stopping to cop a smile at the whorl of still plenty hair atop Victor’s head. His eyes skated over Victor’s body, the weight of him pressing heavily against his shoulder. Brown eyes wandered over the sweater flattened over his abdomen, the black and white diagonal print flush against him until the hem, where it lapped over his belt. Yuri could feel the thumping inside his chest as he wandered downward, heat building inside and overflowing into his cheeks. He gulped. _When I first skated Eros, what I wanted was an idea. But, ever since we started… I know what it feels like. I want it. I wanted to win gold anyways…but…_

“Dinner is here!” the attendant chimed in, her smile eclipsing her sight enough that Yuri was able to pull the blanket Victor had draped over them earlier up around his waist. He snatched it by the handful, yanking it off Victor.

“Hah?!?” Victor’s eyes opened as he blinked, delirious, at his surroundings.

“Ahh, dinner’s here.”

“Oh,” Victor said hazily. He looked over at the trays, then snaked his arm around Yuri, “Did my cute little Yuuri get another flower?”

Yuri nodded as the tray slid over his table, beholding the small shrub in front of him. “Maybe there’s someone on here trying to make a joke. Phichit used to watch those prank videos,” he looked around suspiciously at the people around him.

“Yuri, I don’t think it’s a prank. Someone likes you…”

“Maybe they got the wrong seat? I should ask the attendant…” as Yuri moved to stand, Victor sighed, falling against his chest. “Eh, Victor? Don’t you want to eat?”

“I’m not hungry…”

Before Yuri could reply, he felt Victor’s breath deepen, inhaling and exhaling slow and rhythmically. Victor slept for the rest of the flight.

When the attendants came to collect the trays, Yuri collected a sprig of lavender. Finally, just before the wheels set against the strip, Yuri received one last flower: a black rose.

Yuri yipped, the thorn pricking his finger. He pulled back, looking at the blood drip falling red on the black petal. “Is this an omen?!?”

***

“Yuri! Everything is tucked in! We’ll be able to check-in and then go on a…” Victor bounced in the seat of the taxi as he cooed.

Yuri fumbled in his pocket, too transfixed on the flowers now stowed in his carryon to unravel the musings. He found his phone, thumbing to unlock and remove the airplane mode. _Maybe someone texted me about the flowers? Phichit? Minako-sensei? _As he waited for things to load up, he scrolled through social media, thumbing through well wishes and photos of people, until he spotted a white fur cat behind a white frosted cake. “Oh, it’s February 14!” Yuri said excitedly.

“Yes?!” Victor perked on hearing the words, eyes widening as excitement sparkled in his sapphire eyes.

“It’s Chris’s birthday!”

The air-cooled as Victor turned back in his seat, sighing until the window fogged.

From the airport to the hotel, Yuri sought out any idea that might lead to who and more importantly, why someone gave him flowers. He paid no attention as they walked in through the hotel lobby, barely taking notice of the clean, sleek entryway furnished with low siting red lounge chairs. He didn’t sense anything outside of the whirls of thoughts circulating in his head. An arm slipped over his shoulder as Victor hugged him from behind. The unexpected sensation causing him to jolt, startled, his eyes wide ad moth open. “I really think you’ll like this room…” he barely made out the rest of the words as they rounded the hallway, the door in his mind locked into one room.

The vexed state wearing on him internally, Yuri let out an exasperated sigh. “Who would give me flowers?!?”

“I… for one…would.” Victor’s voice rang hollow and firm in Yuri’s ear as he stepped through the open door into their room. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

The beginnings of sunset rested over the cool waves on the beach outside the windows, which made up the entirety of the wall. Victor plopped down on one of the black lounge chairs, pushing his fingers into his scalp. The spacious room offered a white covered bed, and Yuri sank as he flopped onto it; though more his heart than his behind. In the middle, atop a small black table, set an illustrious bouquet of roses, each petal sensuous and deep displayed proudly in the middle.

“Valentine’s Day?!?!” _Shimatta… _ Yuri’s hand cupped over his glasses as he thought, shaking his head. “That’s a girls holiday.”

Victor quirked his brow, the frustration furrowed underneath. All-day, Victor bit his tongue, biding the moments until the realization dawned on Yuri that Victor sent the flowers. And every hour, a little piece of resilience broke watching his oblivious fiancé muddle through idea after idea. “Huh? What are you saying?”

“In Japan, women do something on Valentine’s day, and men do something on White’s Day.”

“All couples?”

“Mhm. I think so. It’s not just a lover’s holiday. On white’s day, you give presents to everyone you love.”

“I see. Everyone gives flowers to their lovers in Russia on Valentine’s day. The red roses are what lovers are supposed to give. But, I went to pick out one but then each had a different meaning and I… we were traveling. I wanted to surprise you…”

“I’m surprised.” Yuri reached for the duffel next to him, unzipping to recover the flowers from beneath. Each one, entirely different on its own, but together formed something. “All of these mean something…”

Fingers ran along with his sweater as Victor pressed out the wrinkles, letting his mind unwind as he felt the soft woven threading. He rose to stand, taking the few steps to sit next to Yuri on the edge of the bed. His fingers playfully jotted over each flower, remembering the moment he picked them out. “It’s what I think of you. Of us. It’s been eleven months.”

If Yuri’s shame could rise any higher, at that moment it would be that bit of cloud he watched the airplane splice. He lifted the first one into the air, “This one…”

“Sweetpea. It means adieu after a pleasant visit. You were so cute at the banquet last year when you…” Victor began to coo, nuzzling against Yuri’s collar.

“Enough!” Yuri threw his hands wildly in the air. Simmering down he picked up the next, the read petals brighter than the roses, but still as brilliant.

“Ah! A red camellia! My destiny is in your hands! How I felt when I decided to be your coach!”

And suddenly, each flower made complete sense as Victor explained. The yellow daffodil represented new beginnings. _Victor came to me in Japan! _The peony stood for bashfulness, and Victor reached out to squish his cheeks as he dramatically exclaimed how different and endearing Yuri’s shy sobriety made him feel. Yuri’s Eros was shown in in the magenta lilac, the right hues meaning love and passion.

“I love watching you seduce me.” Victor brushed his hand nimbly over Yuri’s arm ad rested it on his hand, looking intent, before looking down. “White rose, a heart unacquainted with love. You.”

Yuri thought back to the beginning formation of Yuri on ice, the ice as white as the petals as he etched out his realization of love. _Victor’s shown me these things without telling me. But hearing them, and seeing them with the flowers…_ A tear caught in his eye, and he closed shut as his throat began the ascent of pinpricks that meant more to come. He knew Victor loved him. He did. But watching it unfold made the story as new as the blooms on the flowers themselves.

A smile stretched over Victor’s face, his childlike enthusiasm returning as he pointed down the row, “Hollyschock- ambition. I knew you were stubborn but not as much as when you decided to do your jumps at regionals.”

“Victor!”

“Honeysuckle” he leaned in, peppering kisses on Yuri’s cheek, “Sweet bonds of love! When I got to kiss my Yuri in China!”

“V-Victor!” Yuri’s face flushed recalling the moment those lips rushed unabandoned on his own. How the love brewing beneath the surface burst at that moment. _Why didn’t I realize then just how much I loved him? Or how much he loved me? That he wasn’t leaving?_

All of the ideations halted as Victor held the peculiar white flower that felt fuzzy to the touch. He smiled exceptionally wide as he looked as if all the memories were shown over each bloom, “Edelweiss. One of my favorite flowers. It stands for courage. When you fought alone when I came back to Japan to be with Makkachin.” He stopped, catching the sadness dwindling in Yuri’s eyes, “And then, you completely surprised me in Barcelona!” he stretched his ringed hand to align with the flower, “Myrtle, good luck and love in marriage.” He winked, unashamed, eliciting a deeper red over Yuri’s cheek.

“What does lavender mean?”

“Devotion. You wanting to land the flip in the short program.”

“I didn’t…” Yuri drifted as the thought drew back the anger of defeat as his hand touched the ice.

"You did, and broke my record… Which is the last one.”

“You cursed me?!?”

“No, the black rose… rebirth and new beginnings.” Yuri looked from the rose to the soft, adoring looks on Victor’s face. Suddenly, the knot inside him loosened and he sprang forward, hurdling himself over Victor’s lap. Arms flung over Victor’s shoulders as Yuri toppled over him, gliding their lips together. An electric, needy friction sparked between their lips, and before Victor could gasp surprised, Yuri was invited his tongue in, letting him swirl hot and wet inside. The pull of their rhythms collided together, Victor raked his hands in Yuri’s hair tugging with just enough force to get a tiny mewl from Yuri as he drew them closer together.

Yuri pulled up, straddling Victor’s hips as his arousal clung heavy beneath him, “I… I’m going to make White’s Day something great! Just watch!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, everyone for hanging out waiting on me to update! It took me a minute between multiple health issues to get the flow of what I wanted to happen in four continents going.  
But here we are! Another competition! 
> 
> A great thank you to everyone who kudos and comments and reads. I have experienced a lot of doubt in my writing capabilities lately and every word helps me continue forward. 
> 
> My new YoI-Fic, a science fiction AU by the name of Synthetic, drops February 14th. If a robot who can love interests you, consider checking it out. If not, I'll still be here with Duetto weekly (hopefully. Please, please life quiet down for more gay skate babies)
> 
> -Tutti


	27. Author's Note: Discontinued

Author’s Note: Discontinued

Beyond Duetto

Thank you all for taking the time to delve into this version of the Yuri on Ice world with me. I have taken considerable time to ponder after putting Duetto on hiatus, and I have concluded to discontinue the story.

I love Yuri on Ice, and Victor and Yuuri’s love as well as all the characters that comprise the whole story. I wanted to continue the flame, stoke the fires so they burned until we had more story to fall back on. I had never been involved in fandom or fic writing before, and everything was new and exciting. However, after reading more and more fics, and even watching Yuri on Ice again and again, I do not feel the direction of this story can do the characters justice. There are a lot about it that I like, but to continue would rely heavily on an OC and I don’t think it would be enjoyable to read as much as the characters we know and love. I don’t want to regurgitate the same stories people have read countless times. And while I know that no two writers tell the same story, the ideas continuing begin to mirror one another.

I am so very sorry to let everyone down who has stuck with and enjoyed the story. One of the things I have come face to face with is my failings as a writer. Creating a story that moves very slowly has left holes that I can’t figure out how to fill. I have considered reworking some of the arcs to eliminate the need for OC’s (honestly, I have been trying for months) but currently I haven’t been able to come up with a compelling and entertaining solution. Maybe one day I can come up with something, but right now I just don’t feel confident in my abilities as a creator to do so. I don’t want people who hope for updates to get strung along anymore by my indecisiveness.

I wanted to deliver something that Victor and Yuuri would be proud of and I just do not believe this story as it stands is it.

Once again, my deepest apologies and sincerest thank you.

Tutti

P.S. I am still writing in AUs. If that is something you are interested in. I haven't abandoned the fandom.


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